


Dangerous Winds

by Alkuna



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Danger, Dogs, F/M, Kittypets (Warriors), RiverClan (Warriors), ShadowClan (Warriors), Sheep, ThunderClan (Warriors), Twolegs (Warriors), WindClan (Warriors)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-08-19 23:06:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16544048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alkuna/pseuds/Alkuna
Summary: Memories of foxes and a bloodthirsty Rogue still plague Ivytail's dreams. When twolegs arrive with two monstrous dogs, Windclan prepares for yet more trouble around the lake. One just likes to run, but the other one makes every cat's heart shudder.





	1. Chapter 1

Ivytail took a deep, satisfied breath and let it out slowly. He was a warrior, finally. Leafbare had been difficult for the clan, but then it always was. The twolegs had packed up and left the new horseplace a quarter moon before the snows started, taking their kittypets with them.

Freefall’s face drifted up in his mind and he felt a small pang of sorrow. He would never see the brave, steady cat again. For all he was a kittypet, he had been as good as any warrior. Better in some ways; he hadn’t been raised to be a warrior, and yet had acted like one with no complaints or even training.

Ivytail’s fur ruffled, though he kept silent in his vigil. Bloodfang’s horrid prison still surfaced in Ivytail’s thoughts from time to time, especially when he was trying to sleep or when he was alone. Between being chased by a fox as a kit and being dumped in that horrible, unstable trap by a crazed Rogue, it was a wonder Ivytail got any sleep at all.

Something rustled in the bushes then scampered off on quick paws. The scent of a rabbit drifted to his nose and he felt his whiskers twitch. The stupid thing had gotten quite close to camp before realizing how many cats were just on the other side of the heather.

The night was peaceful, the stars clear and bright above the lake. A twig cracked and Ivytail was on his paws. “Who’s there?”

“It’s okay Ivytail, it’s just us.” Ashwhisker led the rest of the night patrol into camp, the cats looking sleepy and relieved to be back.

A quick glance said that the patrol had had no problems. Relaxing, the new warrior settled back into position again. Vigils were supposed to be silent, but there were no rules against challenging strange sounds. It was better to challenge a rabbit than to ignore an enemy patrol.

Freefall’s steady gaze rolled gently into his thoughts once more. The exotic cat had waded through a maze of muck and drew him safely off the treacherous mat of reeds that barely floated in the mud. Uncertainly, Ivytail wondered if idolizing a kittypet would be a bad thing. Bravery, a cool head and the willingness to help others… those were the kinds of qualities warriors sought to emulate.

… Well… maybe not a cool head… Ivytail frowned and shot a glance at Swiftstar’s den. The clan leader had been proud and rather cold for as long as Ivytail could remember. Always the first to threaten or challenge another clan, Swiftstar had all but accused the other three clans of being opportunistic when a family of foxes had been terrorizing the clans. He shook his head. He understood the need to look strong when bordered by competing clans, but picking fights was a waste of warriors.

As the sun began to rise above the horizon, the temperature began to rise with it. It would be a good day for hunting today; he could feel it. Silvershade came forward as the first rays of sunlight touched the heather and sent the weary warrior off to sleep for a little while.

Once again he was fleeing across the moors, hot breath behind him the only source of heat. His tiny paws stung, then hurt, then sent claws of agony up his short legs. Terror spurred him on as teeth clapped shut on the barest tip of his tail. Pain darted up his spine and he lengthened his stride, leaving a few hairs dangling from between the fox’s teeth. Suddenly the ground dipped and he was splashing across a stream. Starclan’s luck, it was shallow enough that it only wet his paws. He didn’t trip, he didn’t fall, and he was through it and away as the fox uttered a breathless growl behind him. There was a bush up ahead. He shot through and out the other side, barely aware of the low branches that he wove his way through at top speed… only to find himself charging straight at an enemy patrol.

Thunderclan!

But there was no choice, no time to change direction. He shot under the belly of the nearest startled cat, his mouth open in a silent wail of terror and despair. His paws gave out and he collapsed in the snow, too exhausted to do anything but gulp air into his lungs. Dimly, he heard the patrol snarl and hiss at the fox until it left. Then the cat he hid beneath moved, revealing him to the others. But the enemy warriors didn’t attack, even when he managed to gasp out, “If you're going to rip my fur off, I'd as soon you do it rather than that fox..."

Instead a warm, gentle tongue went to work on the scraped and raw pads of his paws, soothing it and cleaning the bloody ice away. Fernpaw, her name had been. The Thunderclan cat’s eyes were warm pools of light in unfamiliar territory. The other Thunderclan cats made dismissive sounds, uninterested in attacking an exhausted kit…

Then his dream changed, and he was on the treacherous mat of reeds that sank ominously into the mud every time he tried to move. Dawnkit clung to him like a burr, terrified and mewing a mantra of bravery to herself. Once again, the kittypet’s calm voice encouraged him to put his paws into the muck. Once again the sucking mud began to swallow him whole, his front paws barely able to find the narrow path and keep his head high enough to breathe. Jaws clasped his scruff and pulled him free. For a moment, there was nothing beneath him except the endless sucking mud, and then his hind paws touched bottom and Freefall released him, snorting mud out of his nose and making a face at the taste. The kittpyet led him through the mess, calm and steady. And then Dawnkit was lifted from his back by another kittypet with kind eyes. He followed, helped out by the two strange cats. They didn’t care what clan he belonged to; they had helped him regardless…

 

.

 

Ivytail woke late in the morning, still tired but feeling much better after a good sleep. The dreams had settled something for him; he would never be a Thunderclan cat or a kittypet, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t respect the qualities that made them good cats.

Blackmoor had been a good mentor, and he certainly hadn’t forgotten her experience or instruction. However, he had never been able to pick up his mentor’s quick temper or willingness to challenge other cats who were only patrolling the way they should… on their own side of the border.

Prey was running well, and the hunting patrol proudly returned to camp with enough food for the day by the time he padded forward to get some breakfast.

A distant rumbling made every cat pause in the middle of his or her meal and stretch their necks to see what was going on. A twoleg nest perched on the back of a monster was growling its way along the thunderpath that bordered the twoleg place. It came to a stop just short of the broken halfbridge and fell silent with the air of something making itself comfortable for a long nap.

“Oh no,” Silvershade groaned. “For Starclan’s sake, can’t we go four seasons without trouble?”

The twoleg had climbed out of the monster, opened the door to the traveling nest, and released two monstrous dogs.

The beasts shook themselves and then began to range about, sniffing.

“Maybe they’ll stay with their twolegs?” Larkflight meowed with desperate hope.

“Yeah…maybe…” Silvershade didn’t sound convinced.

“We don’t have that kind of luck,” Swiftstar growled, blunt as usual. “Every warrior is to stay with their patrol, every apprentice, stay within sight of their mentor, even on apprentice duties. We all know how to deal with dogs, and these will be no different.”

Ivytail disagreed, silently of course. He stared at the dogs, distance making them look small. But they weren’t. They were huge. The biggest beast went straight up to a horse to sniff noses with it. Foxdash mewed in amazement. The beast was nearly as big as the horse itself. It could swallow a warrior whole and not even realize it.

The other one was long legged, lean and long. It raced this way and that, expending little energy to cross great strides of ground. Watching it change direction to race in another direction, no cat was left in doubt that it could pursue the swiftest Windclan warrior with little effort.

Satisfied that it had sniffed the horse all it wanted to, the big dog turned and started to amble after its twoleg. Abruptly, its head swung around and fixated the edge of the thunderpath bordering the horseplace. The beast sniffed intently, fixated as though its head had been trapped.

Ivytail groaned. The edges of the thunderpath were also the edges of Windclan territory. The dog had found the scent markings, refreshed only this morning. Slowly that great head lifted, and it stared into the territory, its eyes gleaming wickedly in the sunlight.

The lanky beast paid little heed, still racing around and around the monster, this way and that like a fox with its tail on fire. It seemed crazy with joy from the freedom it was granted after its ride in the mobile nest.

A whistle from the twolegs sent the lanky dog bounding after its twoleg with easy grace. The big one didn’t budge, its eyes still raking the open moors. At the second whistle it finally turned and plodded away after its master with the unhurried gait of a beast with future plans. Plans that involved Windclan territory.


	2. Chapter 2

Runningwhisker’s head popped out of the long grass near where the monstrous dog had been sniffing, his eyes so wide they showed a rim of white. Making sure the dog’s back was turned, he bolted back to the camp.

“I thought I was dog kibble!” he meowed breathlessly as he scrambled through the heather to join the rest of the clan. “I was so close I saw the details of its eyes!”

“What were you doing out there anyway?” Silvershade demanded.

“I’m afraid that’s my fault, Silvershade.” Fawnspot meowed, padding out of her den, “I needed to know if the borage was growing back after the hard winter. Runningwhisker knows where my patch is and offered to go check on it for me.”

“It’s fine,” Runningwhisker meowed to her, “If the weather remains steady, it will be plentiful by the time kits come along.”

“Why couldn’t your apprentice go check? Er, not that I’d want Lonepaw in danger any more than Runningwhisker mind you.” Silvershade amended.

Both cats nodded their forgiveness and Fawnspot sighed, “Lonepaw’s on the other side of the territory. Dock leaf I believe.”

“Enough chattering,” Swiftstar growled curtly, “Runningwhisker, I’ll give you the same orders I gave the rest of the clan. No leaving camp without a patrol. And keep a sharp eye on your apprentice.”

Ivytail kept his whiskers very still as Silvershade rolled his eyes out of his leader’s line of sight. Apparently he wasn’t the only warrior getting exasperated by their leader’s abruptness.

As the sun began to sink toward the horizon, a patrol left camp for the border, Ivytail included. Silvershade insisted on caution, his eyes concerned, as there was no way to know where the dogs were or whether they were confined. The Windclan deputy seemed to be struggling internally with the need to do his border duty, while at the same time, urging the warriors not to dally. They had just reached the halfway point when Foxdash gave a yowl of terror.

The long legged dog had bounded off the porch of one of the twoleg nests and was barreling right for the patrol. Nearly as silent as a cat, its paws had not given them a warning clatter on the wooden porch as it raced for them. Cats scattered. The dog raced after them, following any cat it happened to be nearest to without seeming to care which one it was at any given moment.

Pebblepaw wailed as the dog abruptly changed direction and seized the apprentice in its long mouth. Shymeadow leaped to the rescue with a snarl, managing to make the dog drop the terrified apprentice as she lured it away on yet another chase. The beast seemed tireless, and no twoleg seemed interested in coming out to stop all the barking.

Panting and gasping, the cats vanished one by one into various hiding places until only Silvershade remained. Realizing that the sharp eyed beast wasn’t interested in letting them get away until it was satisfied, the warriors set up a long loop, each cat diving into a hiding place and sending another out to takes his place, running about as long as he could until he dove into another, sending yet another warrior out to run.

It took hours, and the sun was almost completely down, before the beast was suitably weary, and turned away from the cats. Ambling back to the twoleg nest, it noisily drank from a bowl and flopped down, panting happily.

“Great Starclan,” Pebblepaw complained, “My paws are worn bloody from all the running.”

“Mine too,” chorused every other cat in the patrol.

The four cats limped wearily back to camp, only to find Swiftstar glowering at them all. “Mouse brains!” He spat. “Did it never occur to any of you to slice the dog’s nose open? You are warriors! It’s what you are trained for!”

Affronted, Silvershade straightened up and leveled a cold stare at his leader, “The dog is fast, agile, and likes to run. Go ahead; injure it. Make it angry. Make it mean. Make it bite the next cat it catches. By all means, endanger the lives of the warriors of the clan. This dog wanted something to chase. It caught Pebblepaw and dropped her the instant something else to chase came along. It had every opportunity to bite, and did not take it.”

“I would wager a moon of apprentice duties that the long legged beast is the safer one.” Ivytail added, before Swiftstar could snarl at his deputy. “That big one looked more dangerous by far, and I for one, am grateful that it wasn’t part of this evening’s chase.”

Swiftstar’s ears went back slightly, but he finally growled, “Get to Fawnspot and do something about those paws.” He glowered at Pebblepaw, as though it had been her fault for getting caught, and then stalked away without a word.

The apprentice wilted.

“You did brilliantly,” Shymeadow mowed in low, warm tones, “It’s not your fault that the dog caught you.”

“But it did! It caught me! And I was so scared! Am I a Windclan cat or not?” Pebblepaw’s eyes were limpid pools of misery.

“Of course you were scared,” Silvershade cut in, also in low tones. “Come here and I’ll tell you a secret no warrior likes to admit out loud.”

Fawnspot drew Ivytail in next, so he missed the deputy’s ‘secret,’ though he could easily figure the gist of it.

_We were all scared. We’d be mouse brains if we weren’t. But we kept running, just like you did. You were scared but you kept up your part of the plan, leading that dog on. You put your own fear aside to keep that dog from finding the camp. That will make you a noble and brave warrior some day._

Indeed, Ivytail had similar words on the tip of his own tongue for the apprentice; she had been grabbed in that dog’s mouth and yet she had gotten right back up again. But perhaps it was best that the senior warrior was the cat to speak them; wisdom sounded better from a cat who seemed to have seen it all rather than a cat newly made into a warrior.

Ivytail winced as wild basil was licked into his scraped paws.

“I’ll tell you what I told the others;” Fawnspot meowed when she was finished, “go to your nest and sleep it off. No patrols until tomorrow afternoon.”

Nodding, he obediently padded off to his nest and wearily joined the others, every muscle aching from the long run. Warriors grumbled darkly as they tried to find a position that was comfortable with aching legs and throbbing paws.

 

.

 

The clan’s mood did not improve over the next few days, though the monstrous dog did not put in an appearance. Windclan was forced to take to hunting at night; the long legged dog chased rabbits for nearly the entire day, every day. Patrols were impossible while the sun was up, as the beast had decided that cats were its personal toy to chase. More than one warrior risked being pursued, having to fetch rabbits for the prey pile that had collapsed with burst hearts.

Many a senior warrior grumbled that the prey was becoming tough and sinewy from all the running, and that the dog wasted prey’s life by chasing it until it died rather than killing it with a proper hunter’s bite. The dog had no interest in the rabbits that stopped moving.

The fourth day after the dogs appearance, the monstrous dog rediscovered the border scent and lumbered straight into the clan’s territory; sniffing and prowling this way and that, its breathing heavy and foul.

Fortunately, by that time, Swiftstar had worked out a plan. If the dogs came too near the camp, queens, kits and elders knew the quickest route out, and both medicine cat and apprentice were ordered to take them to the Moonpool.

“If Starclan objects, well, we’ll deal with that if it comes.” Swiftstar growled, “It’s the most defensible place to take them short of plowing through Thunderclan territory.” Every cat nodded. Antagonistic he may be, but no warrior doubted that the clan leader would risk all in ensuring the clan was safe.

“Let the dog chase you but _don’t let yourselves be caught_! This dog isn’t that long legged idiot.” His tail lashed for emphasis. “Stay close to one another. If it closes in on any one cat, don’t hesitate to use your warrior training.”

The sound of the dog grew closer and Swiftstar gave the signal with his tail. “First patrol with me!”

The cats streamed out of camp, racing low in the grass and spreading out in formation. The dog’s head came up, locked on the cats sprinting so tantalizingly close that it uttered a roaring bark and gave chase. Back and forth they raced, the monstrous jaws snapping half a tail length behind the fleeing warrior’s tails. Away they lured it: away from camp, away from the path to the Moonpool, away from the laden queens and tiny, tiny squirming kits.

The second patrol streamed out, leading the long legged beast on its own merry chase. Keeping the two dogs separate was key; if the dogs worked together at any point, it could mean trouble for the warriors.

The chase was surprisingly short. The bellowing of two dogs was too much to ignore. The twoleg stomped out and shouted at the dogs, and grew even angrier when they ignored their master.

“Oh help! Save me from this dim witted, clumsy, flea brained oaf!” Ivytail wailed in mock terror, and shot straight past the twoleg, ducking under a monster’s belly and out the other side.

The dog growled in frustration as it was brought up short, and then caught by the angry twoleg. With the worst of the two restrained, leading the long legged beast back to the twolegs was an easy task and the two were tied up near the nest, the twoleg grumbling and muttering to itself as it did so.

Swiftstar rumbled his approval to both patrols and the cats returned to camp with high spirits. The menace was contained, at least for now, and duties could be taken care of properly.

As Ivytail followed the patrol back into the camp, the elder Poppyleaf caught his eye and jerked her head to call him over.

Curious, he obeyed.

“Ivytail,” she began, and then hesitated. She worked her jaws, seeming to struggle with a request that felt important, but not wanting to burden the young warrior more.

“You called me over,” Ivytail prompted gently, “You might as well ask.”

“It’s Fleetfoot,” she finally admitted, “He…His mind… it’s not the same… He keeps asking after you like you’re still an apprentice.”

Ivytail closed his eyes to hide the thorn that jabbed into his heart. He had been well loved in the elder’s den as an apprentice, by Fleetfoot especially. The old tom had told wonderful stories of when he had been a warrior, and regaled the apprentices with stories of mischief… and Ivytail had groaned right along with the others at the ‘horrible’ punishments he had earned for himself.

The story of Fleetfoot, then Fleetpaw, tripping and landing face first in his wad of moss soaked in mouse bile had been the best – and worst—story any apprentice could think of suffering through. The elder had relished the squeals of horror at hearing the hapless former apprentice having to stagger to the nearest streamlet and frantically trying to rinse the horrible stuff off.

He had noticed Fleetfoot’s slow decline as age stalked through the old cat’s thoughts while he had been an apprentice, and had thought of visiting time and again, but the arrival of the dogs since his warrior ceremony had devoured time faster than a starving cat swallows a mouse.

“We keep reminding him that you’re a warrior now, but thoughts seem to slip through his mind like water between reeds. Maybe…” again she hesitated.

Ivytail understood. “I’ll do my best to visit more often,” he promised. “I’ll try to bring it up with Silvershade.”

The deputy’s eyes narrowed marginally when Ivytail made his request. “You are a warrior now, with warrior duties. No cat in this clan can pander to a single member’s whims. The dogs are a serious threat to every clan member, and every warrior is needed to keep the clan safe.”

Ivytail dipped his head, regret making his chest tight. The deputy was right of course. Every ounce of peace had to be taken advantage of. The foxes had proven that the heather around the camp was no protection from larger enemies, and he had no doubt that a determined monster dog could plow straight through it.

“Still…”

Ivytail blinked and lifted his head, a hesitant flicker of hope stirring in his thoughts.

“I think it would be a very good idea to leave a few warriors around camp at all times. At the very worst, they could provide enough of a distraction to allow the clan to escape.” Silvershade nodded to himself, as though a plan had settled into his thoughts. “Keep in mind, Ivytail, that you still have to get your warrior duties done when you are sent on them. But I can give you a chance to spend a little more time with the elders, if only to help Fleetfoot focus on something.”

“Thank you Silvershade,” Ivytail meowed.

The deputy nodded. “Go ahead and visit for now. I’ll put you and two others on the first watch.”

As the deputy padded off to tell Swiftstar the plan, Ivytail picked up a bit of prey and joined the elders as they dozed in the warm sun.

Fleetfoot caught Ivytail’s scent and snapped awake almost immediately. “Well, look who’s coming back to torment us old cats.” He meowed, turning his cloudy gaze in Ivytail’s direction.

The warrior felt a pang as he realized that the elder had truly lost his sight at last. The elder’s cinnamon colored fur was somewhat ruffled, as though he couldn’t work up the energy to wash himself properly anymore.

“Sorry Fleetfoot,” Ivytail meowed around the prey he brought in, “They’re working us all hard these last few days.”

“The dogs,” Sundrop prompted gently when Fleetfoot looked puzzled.

“Bah, twolegs and their dogs.” The elder grumped, “I say the only good dog is a dog on a leash.”

“They’re leashed right now,” Ivytail meowed, glad to have some gossip to share with the elders for once. Every elder perked up as Ivytail told them all of his role in leading the ugly brutes straight into their master’s clutches.

Several raspy purrs of amusement followed his story, though concern flashed across the old cat’s face, “They let you be part of the patrol, Ivypaw? That sounds like awful dangerous work for such a young cat.”

Sundrop cleared her throat uncomfortably but Ivytail meowed quickly, “It’s all right. I stayed close to the other warriors, and that mousebrained dog was too fat and slow to catch me.” He allowed a bit of pride to slip into his tone, like a proud apprentice who was given a big honor.

“Still, be careful. Windclan can’t afford to lose any of its cats. Each one is important.” Fleetfoot worried the grass beneath his paws and Ivytail touched his nose to the elder’s cheek in reassurance. “My, you’re getting big,” the old cat approved, “It won’t be long before you’re a warrior and leading patrols all by yourself.”

Ivytail’s throat tightened. The old cat seemed to have forgotten the ceremony only a few days ago, when he had meowed his own congratulations to the newly made warrior. “Tha-That’s right. Any day now.”

“You’ll make a fine warrior, mark my words.”

Ivytail was spared from answering by Silvershade, who poked his head in to gesture to Ivytail to join him outside.

“Silvershade, you make sure this young cat doesn’t get himself hurt doing duties that warriors are supposed to do,” Fleetfoot rumbled warningly, “I’ll have your ears if I ever find out about it. Ivypaw is a good cat and should be made a warrior soon.”

Surprise flickered across the deputy’s face, and his eyes darted to Poppyleaf’s apologetic grimace and Ivytail’s sorrowful expression. “Er, I’ll tell Swiftstar you said so. I think you’re right; this young cat should be a warrior.”

“I better go, Fleetfoot; apprentice duties, you know.” Ivytail followed the silver tipped tom out of the elder’s sheltered spot.

“Don’t let your mentor work you too hard, we miss you.” Fleetfoot called after them.

“It really is getting bad, isn’t it?” Silvershade meowed quietly to him as they chose a piece of freshkill and settled down to eat.

“I… I don’t think he’ll be with us too many more moons.” Ivytail admitted sorrowfully.

“He’s really fond of you. Acts like a proud mentor half the time and a father the other half.” Silvershade sighed, “I’ll do what I can. I can promise you that at least. Maybe if you visit him once in a while, he’ll get more energy in those old paws of his.”

“I hope so.” They were silent for a heartbeat, and then Ivytail changed the subject, “Was there something you wanted?”

“Partly, to see for myself how Fleetfoot was doing,” the Deputy admitted. “but also to let you know that you’re on evening patrol.”

Ivytail nodded and joined his fellow warriors as they gathered.


	3. Chapter 3

The clan had jumped at the chance to return to their normal schedules, though Ivytail wasn’t the only cat uneasy about marking the border by the horseplace.

“If those chains snap…” Foxdash muttered, shooting a wary glance at the restrained dogs.

“Starclan forbid.” Redember meowed fervently.

No cat dallied.

As they passed the Twoleg place, the long legged dog stared at them morosely, as though fully aware that the chain prevented it from chasing its favorite toy.

The monstrous dog, on the other paw, was not so quiescent. With a roar it lunged to the end of its chain and snapped furiously at the bristling warriors, paws thudding upon the earth only a fox length away from the patrol. Spitting insults, the warriors hurried through their scent marking and went quickly about their way.

The chain held. For two days the patrols did their duty, and for two days the monstrous dog roared in frustrated rage at the end of its chain.

On the third day, it uttered deep, threatening growls at the end of its chain but did not lunge or roar.

By the fourth day, it stood silently, the great head turned in the direction the patrol always came from, turned to track the patrol and finally turned away after the patrol passed.

“It’s watching for us,” Ivytail growled to his Deputy, “It knows where we’re coming from, when we’re coming and when we leave. I don’t like it.”

“It sticks like tough freshkill in my belly too,” Silvershade agreed with a curt nod, “That dog won’t be chained forever, and if it knows where we’re coming from…”

The deputy didn’t finish his thought, but later Swiftstar ordered every queen, kit and elder to make a practice escape out of the back of the camp and onto the path toward the moonstone. The curt leader did not push for a full evacuation and run, but he did oversee the warriors practice keeping the group together.

Queens with bellies almost dragging on the ground and sore, grumpy elders sighed as one as they returned to their soft nests when the clan leader was satisfied that they would do as they were told in a worst-case scenario.

Tempers were short and every cat was on edge when Fawnspot and Lonepaw readied for their trip to the Moonpool.

Several times Swiftstar opened his mouth as though to order a warrior to travel with the Medicine Cats, and each time he closed his mouth with a snap and shook his head in frustration. It would seem like admitting fear and vulnerability to send a warrior when every other clan was unbothered by the presence of the dogs.

Ivytail wasn’t the only cat who noticed, and as a sort of compromise, Redember offered to lead a somewhat early evening patrol past the dogs to give them something other to watch than the two lone cats striding off into the darkness. No cat missed the relief in their leader’s eyes as he agreed.

Clouds slid silently across the sky until it was as dark as the depths of Leafbare, engulfing the night sky. Moonlight speared through gaps in the cloud cover, creating shafts of moonlight slanting to the ground that looked almost solid enough to climb. The Moonpool was engulfed in a shaft of moonlight. The camp too, was illuminated so brightly that Winclan stumbled out of their nests, muttering and complaining that it was impossible to sleep with every nook and cranny lit up as bright as day.

Ivytail looked around the lake and noted that the horseplace was shadowed in darkness so complete that he almost couldn’t tell that it was there. The rest of the clans too, were shadowed, but not quite as darkly. Then a small shaft of light speared down into Thunderclan camp, illuminating it in a soft glow. Windclan and the Moonpool were the only pools of pure silvery light. Ivytail looked up and saw Silverpelt glittering above them, strong and sure, as though their warrior ancestors were all in attendance.

Slowly the light faded and the clouds broke up before scudding away to the horizons. The sky was dim once more and the stars faded back to their distant glitter. Slowly the clan crept back into their nests to try to get some sleep. Only Ivytail, Silvershade and Swiftstar remained awake through the night, waiting for their Medicine Cat and apprentice to return home.

But neither Fawnspot nor Lonepaw said anything. They dipped their heads in greeting to their clan leader and padded straight into their own nests. Slowly, reluctantly, the Clan Leader, Deputy and warrior all padded off to their own nests to rest for the remainder of the night.

The next day dawned bright and cheerful, and the evening had passed without a hitch. It felt almost anticlimactic after the tension of the previous evening, until the dawn patrol shot back into camp almost the instant they were out of it.

“The dogs are unchained!” Silvershade gasped, “And both dogs and the twoleg are on their way into the heart of our territory!”

The calls of the twoleg and the crashing thuds of the dogs’ massive paws through the underbrush had roused every cat from its deepest sleep. Now they all uttered meows of alarm.

“Every cat out!” Swiftstar spat, “Dawn patrol, ready yourselves.”

Silvershade’s gaze raked the crowd of cats and then blinked. “Ivytail, you join Runningwhisker, Stillnight, Shymeadow, Larkflight and the apprentices. Keep them all together and _get them to the Moonpool_. Don’t let any cat stray.”

Ivytail caught the meaningful glance Silvershade flicked in Fleetfoot’s direction. The Moonpool group was half out of the camp before the Deputy could finish speaking as one of the dogs crashed through the underbrush uncomfortably close to the camp. Ivytail hurried to Fleetfoot’s side and guided the blind elder along, praying that no foolish kit would try to slip away to see what the fuss was about or no Queen fell behind. Warriors brought up the rear as apprentices helped cats along, the whole mess following Fawnspot along the stream that led to the Moonpool. It wasn’t very organized, but it was effective.

Fawnspot and Lonepaw’s jaws were packed full of herbs, which puzzled Ivytail. When had the two cats had the time to make the bundles? He’d thought they’d gone straight to sleep the night before, and had still been shaking sleep from their eyes when the dawn patrol had roused the clan. Now was not the time to ask, he decided, shaking the thoughts from his mind and guiding the elder over a little streamlet that would have tripped him up otherwise.

The remaining warriors separated into patrols and prepared for the worst. Fleetfoot was, amazingly, easy for Ivytail to coax along. The elder strode along, his head high: tasting the air and keeping pace as though it were no more than a brisk jaunt to stretch his legs after a long nap.

Fleetfoot also seemed to remember some of his days as a warrior, drawing Ivytail close with a flick of his tail. "Keep near me youngster and we'll be all right," he meowed reassuringly. "Those noisy beasts couldn't catch their tails if we walked over and handed them to their drooling mouths.

There was an amused snort from an apprentice, though Ivytail couldn't pick out who. The evacuation was going well so far. The thudding of paws and monstrous barking kept the two kits near their mother. Mentors paced on the outside of the patrol while apprentices scouted out the easiest paths through the territory for their weaker clan mates. The two laden queens puffed and panted, but their eyes were narrowed in determination and they kept up well enough with the tottering elders.

No screeches or snarls rose from behind them, so the dogs hadn't gotten close enough to the camp to spur the remaining warriors into action. As the ground dipped away from the camp, Ivytail lost sight of it. Sending a silent prayer to Starclan that no one would be hurt, they hurried along.

Abruptly Fleetfoot's ears stood tall. "Better check on Swanwing," he told Ivytail, "I can hear her rasping from all the way back here."

Ivytail waved Specklepaw over with his tail so that the blind elder knew where to go and scrambled forward. Sure enough, Swanwing's sides were heaving and her swollen belly scraped against the ground with every breath. Lonepaw popped something into her mouth, which she breathlessly gulped down, but it didn't take a medicine cat to know that her strength was flagging. With kits due any day she would never have left camp, much less trekked all this way, if there had been any choice.

Ivytail sprinted forward and had a quick word with Fawnspot, who called for a rest.

They were halfway, and the thudding paws of the two dogs remained behind them, though the enthusiastic crashing of the underbrush did not seem to be drawing any closer.

Queens dropped where they stood. Swanwing closed her eyes and simply breathed. The kits were deposited for a feeding and the warriors and apprentices alike lined themselves in a row between their weary clanmates and the noise of the dogs and their twoleg.

Ivytail spotted Fleetfoot, apparently having one of his better days, murmuring in Swanwing’s ear and tucking the long grass around her belly in a temporary nest. As though aware that Ivytail was watching, the blind old warrior lifted his head and called out “Ivypaw.”

Several cats winced. Well, better than some days but not altogether there, perhaps.

“I’m here.”

“Swanwing isn’t going to be able to keep up this pace.” Fleetfoot meowed in a matter of fact tone. “In fact, I’m amazed that this pace hasn’t pushed her beyond her limits. We’re going to need a smaller group to protect her and to travel a bit more slowly.”

“I’m not weak,” Swanwing hissed, opening an irate eye to glare up at them. “I juh-just need to cat-catch my breath.”

“Of course you’re not weak. You’re carrying your own weight plus those of your kits.” Ivytail soothed, “But a hard pace isn’t good for your kits, and certainly won’t be good for you if they decide to come. You must save your strength. Kits don’t ask for their Leader’s permission to be born. Or their mother’s for that matter.”

A spark of humor crept into her angry gaze and she nodded briefly, conceding the point. “Well, all right. A _little_ slower.”

The rest of the group moved ahead as Ivytail, Fleetfoot, Swanwing and Shymeadow traveled at a slower pace. Shymeadow’s apprentice, Pebblepaw, wasn’t happy about being sent ahead with the rest of the group. Swanwing’s grumpy hiss at being coddled helped convince her not to argue, however.

The Queen’s temper was soothed by Fleetfoot, who went off on a wild story about his kithood. Apparently he had snuck out of camp, found a hedgehog trundling through Windclan territory and proceeded to convince another kit that the thorny creature was a bush, uprooted and on the march. The clan has been in an uproar as the other spooked kits hissed and snarled at the heather walls of the camp, daring them to start walking on their own.

Ivytail purred in amusement and shook his head.

Something sailed over his head and he hissed in surprise and ducked. It sailed low enough to scrape Shymeadow’s ears, and dropped like an enemy warrior straight onto Swanwing’s back.

If it _had_ been an enemy warrior, the queen’s slowed reaction would have doomed her. It knocked her flat before she spat fiercely and lashed out at the brightly colored thing, flipping it off and sending it tumbling away.

Ivytail blinked. It was round on one side, like water worn stone. On the other, it was scooped out and no thicker than a cat’s claws. Toothmarks showed where it had been seized by the powerful jaws of one of the dogs, and reeked of dog drool and dog. It was some sort of... flying… dog toy.

“Starclan save us,” Shymeadow meowed in horror, as yowls of challenge sounded in the camp far behind them, and the long legged beast yelped in pain and fled the camp.

The other dog… the big one… the deadly one… ignored the camp entirely and charged down the hill, straight at the small patrol at full speed. Its burning eyes were all for the smaller group of cats and not the toy that lay so temptingly near.

“Run!” Shymeadow screeched.

Ivytail’s heart sank as the ground shook and Swanwing gave a breathless yowl and turned to flee, even though it was already too late. The massive beast brushed the two warriors aside like flies, seized the terrified queen in its jaws and flipped her high into the air.


	4. Chapter 4

Swanwing’s scream of pain and fear as she tumbled helplessly through the sky drove Ivytail to his paws before he even knew he had taken a tumble. He took a fantastic leap and buried his claws into the slavering monster’s heavy jowls, wrenching its terrible maw down and to the side instead op up and open, waiting for the queen to fall into them.

The queen’s wail was cut off abruptly she landed heavily on the dog’s shoulders and tumbled silently down and away. But the dog had lost interest in her. Enraged at its wounding, it whipped its head upward hard, ripping Ivytail’s tenuous grip free and slinging him into the air. Slavering jaws lunged upward and sent white hot claws of pain through both hind legs as they snapped shut.

Ivytail curled his body upward around the massive muzzle and slashed for the dog’s eyes. Dimly, he wondered where Fleetfoot and Shymeadow had gone, prayed that Swanwing was all right and that the kits weren’t hurt inside her body and oh Starclan this hurt—

The breath was knocked clean out of him as the jaws abruptly released his legs and sent him skidding and tumbling for several fox lengths across the grass.

“Rrrowwwwllll!” Fleetfoot howled in triumph, riding the monstrous dog’s flanks and gouging the flesh beneath his hind paws to make the dog race along beneath him as he held on with his front paws.

Yelping, the dog was racing in a circle, forced to run harder with a painful jab of the elder’s hind claws every time it slowed down.

Ivytail flailed, struggling to get his lungs to remember how to inhale.

Someone thumped his spine sharply and with a cough and a splutter, his stunned lungs remembered how to draw a proper breath.

“Let go of him before he rolls!” A strange voice yowled, and the elder dropped away as the dog began twisting back, struggling to seize the old cat and tear him free of his spot of questionable safety.

Shymeadow slashed at the dog’s flanks as a patrol of Thunderclan cats spilled out of the trees and harassed the dog, driving it back the way it came.

Realizing that it was outnumbered and unable to seize any single cat in revenge, the dog gave a final snarl and fled back to its master, leaving a thick trail of blood from several deep wounds.

“Hello,” meowed the cat who had thumped Ivytail’s back, “I’m Mudslide from Thunderclan. Remembered how to breathe have you?”

“Y-yes. Thank you.” He gasped, struggling to his paws. He managed to bite back a yowl of pain, but his legs failed to support him and he sank back to the ground.

“Oh, your legs!” The Thunderclan she cat looked unusually distressed as blood dribbled from several holes where the dog’s teeth had punctured his skin. “Don’t move! If they’re broken…and your back! Is your back all right?” She danced anxiously in place for a second, and then looked hastily around before bounding a short distance away.

Ivytail watched as the she cat dug at the base of a plant and produced a few black roots. “Comfrey,” she said as she laid them nearby. “I needed some when a fox broke my leg. I remember that I needed it, but I don’t know how much.”

“I-It’s okay.” Ivytail gritted his teeth against the pain and tried to get the she cat talking to help distract him. “My back is all right too. So you were attacked by the foxes?”

The she cat nodded and gave him a friendly glance. “The attack broke my leg and wrenched my back. It delayed my warrior ceremony.”

“I’m sorry.” Ivytail sympathized.

Mudslide shrugged as though it no longer mattered, which was true: she was a warrior now and no longer had to wait for it.

“Ugly brute wasn’t he?” Fernmask of Thunderclan interrupted cheerfully, padding over and leading Shymeadow and Fleetfoot over to their clanmate with the guiding touch of her tail. “And this one rides dogs the way I once rode a fox.”

“Only you got squashed.” Mudslide retorted with good humor.

“Swanwing! Where’s Swanwing?” Ivytail looked around frantically. He remembered, barely, in time not to try leaping to his paws.

“The queen? I think Suntail dragged her off that way.” Mudslide angled her ears toward the cool shade of the trees bordering Windclan territory.

More slowly than an elder, Ivytail got to his paws and limped over in the direction indicated. Mudslide brought the comfrey along, mumbling around it that it was Windclan comfrey after all.

The yellow and orange Thunderclan cat stood calmly on guard next to the queen, who’s eyes were open but glazed, and her breathing was labored.

“That dog…” wheezed Swanwing, “has a very hard… pair of shoulders. Knocked… the air clean… out of me.” Then her eyes widened and she gasped. “N-No! Th-the kits!” Any other words she could have said were lost in a yowl of pain.

Alarm prickled through Ivytail as he caught the scent of blood. Something was wrong.

Shymeadow took one look at the scene and was gone in a flash of gray fur, racing full tilt after the patrol of elders and queens. Ivytail sent a silent prayer to Starclan that Fawnspot would be close enough to arrive in time. Then he sank down next to her, trying to look protective, even as he eased his weight off of his wounded legs.

A patrol of Windclan cats finally sprinted down the incline, eyes alight with their recently triumphant battle. They skidded to a stop, stared, and then raced forward faster than before.

“Well I think that’s our cue to be on your way.” Fernmask meowed, “I’m sure you would rather have a patrol of Windclan warriors around a queen giving birth than a _Thunderclan_ one.” A flash of good natured humor flicked in her gaze, then she nodded politely to them, and turned her gaze to Ivytail. “Ivy…” and then she hesitated.

Ivytail nodded warmly to her. The last time they had met, she had helped save him from a fox when he had been a tiny kit. Calling him Ivykit now would be an insult, though she had no way of knowing what his new name was. The Gathering where his new name would be introduced to the clans wasn’t for another two nights.

“Ivytail,” he introduced himself.

“Ivytail,” she repeated, “It’s good to see you again. You’ve grown into a fine warrior.”

Casting a final glance in the direction the fleeing dog had taken, the Thunderclan patrol melted into the trees without a sound.

The Windclan patrol arrived not a heartbeat later, and Silvershade’s eyes took in the situation in a single sweeping glance.

“Here,” he meowed, and spun in a tight circle in the springy grass a few fox lengths away from the border.

Once a nest was beaten down, Frostpelt and Ashwhisker carefully tugged the panting queen into the nest while Fleetfoot patted the tall grass over her to provide some shelter from the Newleaf sun. Ivytail accepted help from Redember as he limped his way into a nest nearby, but giving the panting queen the room she needed.

The patrol arranged itself in a circle, facing outward. Unsurprisingly, Fleetfoot planted himself next to Ivytail, his still keen ears swiveling to catch what his cloudy gaze could not.

“Er, Fleetfoot,” Ivytail began, flinching as Swanwing gasped and jerked in the grass at their backs.

“How did I jump so accurately onto a dog’s back?” The elder’s whiskers twitched and he turned a yellow toothed smile back at the young warrior. “I’m _blind,_ young apprentice. That does not mean I cannot see.”

The young calico tipped his head.

“I suppose you do not understand what I mean.” Fleetfoot guessed. “Oh, here comes Fawnspot and Lonepaw.”

Ivytail blinked as a second later, the Medicine cat and her apprentice bounded around the bend, hot on Shymeadow’s heels.

“We never should have separated!” Fawnspot growled; angry at herself, at the smaller patrol, at the dogs or at the world in general Ivytail couldn’t tell.

Fleetfoot grunted, “If you all were still with us, who else would that dog have attacked? Apprentices? Other elders? Stop blaming yourself. The idea was the best we could make without risking the safety of the others.” Turning back to Ivytail, the old warrior continued, “Without my eyes, I can hear, smell and feel things a lot more clearly. That dog stank to high heaven and made so much noise that I wouldn’t have ever been a proper Windclan warrior if I had missed that jump.”

“You saved my life,” Ivytail said with feeling, “Thank you.”

“There’s still some fight in me young one, always remember that of your Elders.” Whiskers up in a pleased smile, Fleetfoot swiveled his ears backward.

“There’s not much we can do right now.” Fawnspot meowed solemnly as Swanwing clenched her teeth and yowled, “The impact has brought the kits early. I can only pray they’re all well.”

“The blood,” Silvershade began anxiously, and then stopped.

“It may mean something, it may mean nothing. We won’t know until the kits are born.” Fawnspot meowed curtly. “I can only do so much.”

“Dare we move her?” Ashwhisker asked with an anxious glance at the Thunderclan border.

“No.” Fawnspot’s voice was sympathetic but firm.

The afternoon dragged on, Swanwing’s contractions gradually inching closer and closer together. The clan drifted in, took in the situation and raced back and forth to camp, ferrying whatever Fawnspot needed. Lonepaw came over and began to tend to Ivytail’s legs, which had finally stopped bleeding.

Lonepaw hastily chewed the comfrey Mudslide had left behind and licked it into Ivytail’s injuries before being called away again by Fawnspot.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered hastily, “just leave that stuff there and we’ll do a better job later.”

Ivytail nodded his understanding and tried to make himself comfortable.

Occasionally, a pair of eyes gleamed in the shadows across the border in Thunderclan territory. But none of the enemy patrols crossed the border or made any comments. The warriors guarding Swanwing traded cats with the fresh patrol and escorted Ivytail, the remaining elders and the queens back to camp.

The camp itself was in shambles. The wall of heather had been plowed through and blood spattered the camp floor. And, Ivytail realized, it had been the relatively harmless dog that had done this. That killer would have really made a mess of things had he made an effort to get in.

Nothing could be done. Nothing more would help. It was in Starclan’s paws now, and Ivytail could only worry as Brownstripe and her kits slipped into the Nursery. Cindersplash settled into her nest with a sigh, her swollen belly spreading around her like a pool. He couldn’t help but fret over her too. She had trekked a long distance and before the incident today, she was due at nearly the same time as Swanwing.

“Quit fretting and go lie down,” Cindersplash finally huffed, “I’ll be fine until the clan returns. You on the other hand, fought a humongous dog. Oh yes, I heard from Fleetfoot that the ‘brave apprentice’ took on a dog all by his lonesome.”

Ivytail shot her a half glare, prepared to utter a scathing retort. Only Fleetfoot could get away with referring to him as an apprentice. But her gaze was gentle and proud and she nodded toward the warrior’s nests. “Go on young warrior. Fleetfoot is proud of you, as is the rest of the clan. That was very brave of you, and it saved Swanwing’s life.”

“I hope it was enough to save her kits too,” Ivytail meowed anxiously.

“Fretting does not dig up answers any more than clawing at grass,” she told him, dismissing him with a flick of her fluffy tail, “Rest, and we’ll all know about it sooner or later.”

Never had the camp been so empty, he mused as he made his slow way to the nearest nest. With half the clan guarding the impromptu nursery around Swanwing, and Warriors and apprentices padding out to keep an eye out on the dogs back at the horseplace, the camp suddenly felt like a very large place to have to guard.

Ivytail could see them: the long legged beast hunkering on the porch with its tail between its legs; the big monster being tended to by its twoleg. The young warrior felt a swell of fierce pride as the twoleg dabbed at the dog’s face wounds, wounds that Ivytail himself had put there. _I hope it hurts you vicious beast!_ He spat silently. _I hope you’ll leave a pregnant queen alone the next time you want to pick a fight!_

Legs throbbing rhythmically, Ivytail settled down into his nest and dozed, his ears half perked for news about Swanwing and her kits.

The sun was sinking by the time several cats streamed back into the camp. Swanwing, her mate, Ashwhisker, and several warriors were missing. Where were they? Were they at the Moonpool? The questions buzzed around in Ivytail's head, but were quickly silenced.

"They were tiny. Very tiny. Too tiny in fact. They came early, and the trauma of the birth, and being moved, was very risky." Lonepaw fretted as they padded into camp, his eyes wide in the darkening light.

"We had no choice," Fawnspot growled in a tone that indicated she had said this many times already. "We were out in the open where any fox, badger, dog or Thunderclan cat could come and steal or kill them."

"And we couldn't afford to risk something like that," Swiftstar cut in. "Enough Lonepaw. We know how dangerous it was to move them, but it was more dangerous to leave them there, even for a night of resting." He lashed his tail, signaling the end of the argument. "Enough. There is a lot to decide, and less time to do it. They will be all right for tonight with Starclan watching over them."

Lonepaw looked as though he had swallowed mouse bile and slipped into the nursery on the pretext of checking on Cindersplash and Brownstripe. Fawnspot allowed several heartbeats to pass before she joined him. When they slipped back out of the nursery, both looked calmer, Ivytail slowly tottered his own way over to them.

Fawnspot took one look at his legs and herded him straight into the Medicine Cat den and into a nest.

"I'm amazed you could walk on those. Lie still and let me look at them," she ordered. Ivytail sighed in relief as Lonepaw spread a new poultice over the places where the dog's sharp teeth had punctured. "Not broken, just bitten pretty bad."

"You are so lucky," Lonepaw meowed. "Your legs will be stiff tomorrow, but you'll be able to walk okay. Running, patrolling or fighting though, is going to be another matter. You'll have to bow out."

"Bow out of what?" Ivytail blinked.

"You'll hear soon enough," Lonepaw sighed. "Now, I need to get to work." The apprentice scrambled away and began making packets of herbs.

"Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather for a clan meeting!" Swiftstar called, and Ivytail perked his ears as high as they would go so he could hear everything.

"As I'm sure you've noticed, several clan mates have not returned from the patrol to Moonpool. That ugly brute attacked Swanwing, and as a result, her kits have come early. Fawnspot and I have made the difficult decision to move her and the kits to the safety of the Moonpool. It is also our decision to move the remaining elders, queens and kits. Our evacuation plan is no longer a last resort but a decision for the safety of the entire clan. Only warriors shall remain. Mentors and apprentices are to protect the clan at Moonpool. They will need every pair of paws the clan can spare."

Swiftstar fell silent, letting the clan absorb the seriousness of the situation. Then he continued, "Tomorrow night is the Gathering. We will only take warriors. I know there are apprentices and new warriors who hoped to be present for their introductions, but we cannot afford to leave the elders and kits unguarded. Know that Windclan is proud of you, and that there will be other Gatherings." The clan leader dropped down to speak with Silvershade.

The clan were uneasy, murmuring to themselves. Never in Windclan history had the clan been separated like this. Worse, the attack on Swanwing had proved that even within the borders, danger could still strike the clan at any time. Only a single season had passed since that horrible Rogue Bloodfang had used the clan's territory against them to steal kits and every cat was reminded of that now. Dawnpaw, his sister, and Rosemask, his mother, both grimaced when the hateful cat's name was remembered in anxious murmurs.

He knew that Rosemask would be grateful to know that both of her kits would be safely tucked away from the fighting, even though neither were technically kits any longer. But she was a loving mother, and would always think of them as they had been in the nursery. It didn't help that both of them had nearly been lost in their youths, and so every time danger loomed, the she cat was assailed by bad memories.

Fawnspot shook out a few poppy seeds in front of Ivytail. "All right, you've listened long enough. It's time for you to get some rest. You have a long walk ahead of you tomorrow, and I want you to be as well rested as you can be before you do."


	5. Chapter 5

It was again dawn when Ivytail was nudged awake. “Sorry Ivytail, you’ll have to make do with herbs this morning.” Fawnspot meowed briskly, and Ivytail grimaced before gulping them down. The clan were gathering in the center of the camp, yawning and grousing as Lonepaw lay packets of herbs in front of those that were making the trip. Many cats murmured concerned good-byes and wished their clanmates a safe trip.

The trip was much slower this time: Cindersplash was worn out from the previous trek, as were the elders. Ivytail’s legs were stiff, and though the herbs gave him energy, they protested quite a bit to all the walking.

As the clan ambled its way along, thunderous barking sounded behind them.

“Windclan! Into the trees in Thunderclan territory! The dog is unchained! Windclan warriors to me!” Swiftstar’s voice rang clear in the still air behind them.

Swearing furiously, mentors herded the clan across the border, muttering and grimacing as they ducked and squeezed through the underbrush into a small clearing well within the territory of the enemy clan.

Ivytail grimaced as he glanced around. He felt closed in, surrounded by hostile territory where every rustle, every quiver of branches, could be an enemy patrol closing in for an ambush. Everything just smelled like plants and rich earth. There were no open spaces for proper, honorable battle. The clan huddled together, peering suspiciously around and flexing their claws anxiously as the barking swelled and ebbed beyond their sight.

“I-Ivytail?” The young warrior looked down at Starkit, a little white tom with a dark gray patch on his flanks. “Ivytail, I uh… I gotta go.”

The young warrior blinked. “You’ve got to...? Oh. You can’t…hold it I suppose?”

The kit shook his head, looking embarrassed, “I thought that you could, um, protect me so I could… go… a little ways away from the rest of the clan.”

Ivytail sighed and led the kit a little away and sat down outside of a sheltering bush. “Bury it deep Starkit. This isn’t our territory.”

He looked around, trying to spot movement that might hint at danger, but it was hopeless. Several precious seconds after something rustled straight past him in the undergrowth, the scent of mouse ticked his nose. If it had been an enemy, he never would have known until it was too late.

Then without a single rustle to betray her presence, Fernmask popped out of the underbrush close enough to brush her whiskers over his pelt. He jumped and uttered a stifled yelp of surprise.

“Ivytail?” What are you doing on Thunderclan territory?” The she-cat’s voice was less than friendly, and her tone was guarded, but he thought he spotted a flash of concern in her eyes. Her tail flicked, and it seemed as though all the rustles in the territory went still.

Ivytail swallowed. He’d bet a moon of freshkill that she had a full patrol hidden from sight, probably close enough to take him down before he could even cry a warning to his clanmates. He would only have a single chance to make his case. He had to make it count. Fernmask couldn’t afford to betray her friendliness to him. Obviously the cats in this patrol were not her friends; not like her last patrol had been.

“Hello Fernmask. I’m sorry. I’m trespassing again. I can’t seem to avoid being chased into your territory.”

Her whiskers gave the barest twitch, as though she were fighting amusement. He noted that she was very carefully keeping her back to the underbrush in front of him. Her fur was fluffed to make herself look larger and more intimidating. She was calm, but alert. “Chased, you say?”

“Remember the dog from yesterday? It was unchained again today. Swiftstar sent us out of camp while the warriors tried to distract it. We had no choice.”

“Us.” She repeated, pacing slowly back and forth. Her tail flicked again in what could only be a signal, but no rustles betrayed a response, if there had been one.

“Ivytail, I’m done, and I- meep!” Starkit uttered an adorable squeak as the he hopped out of the bush and caught sight of the fully grown enemy warrior no more than a tail length away.

“Scent marking, kit?” Fernmask meowed sternly, frowning down at him.

“I... I um…” Starkit fidgeted, trying to think of something to say.

“It’s always better to tell the truth, Starkit.” Ivytail prompted, “That way, you can never be caught in a lie.”

Surprise flashed across Fernmask’s face and she shot Ivytail a look of puzzled curiosity.

The kit considered for a second, then took a deep breath, stood tall and looked Fernmask in the eye.

“Well?” Something seemed to soften around the Thunderclan cat’s eyes as she looked down at the small, brave Windclan kit. She suddenly looked more like a stern queen who had caught her kits up to mischief.

“N-No. I had to go.”

“You don’t look like you’re leaving Thunderclan territory.” She meowed calmly, looking from the kit to the forest in the direction where the Windclan border lay.

“Huh? No, not leave. I had to _go!_ ” Embarrassment seemed to drip from the kit’s fur, but he didn’t back down. “I buried it as well as I could so the smell wouldn’t bother you.”

“I see.” Was that a purr of gentle amusement in her voice? “And were you planning to steal a bite to eat as well?”

“No! My clan can catch its own food!” Starkit looked offended by the very idea.

“Do I have your word on that?”

“You have my word as the warrior I’m going to be when I grow up. I’ll be the best hunter Windclan has, and I won’t need your piddly old prey!”

Ivytail closed his eyes and shook his head, amused and exasperated by the kit’s audacity.

But Fernmask dipped her head slightly and solemnly, “I’ll hold you to your promise, kit. I expect you to be a fine and loyal Windclan warrior when you grow up.”

Her amusement was gone quickly, though. “Well Ivytail, perhaps you could answer a question for me. Are you two the only ‘us’ you were referring to?”

_Loaded question._ Ivytail thought. _They have to know by now that there’s a huge group of us here. There’s no way they cannot. Still, if I play my prey right…_

“No.” he admitted. “Come on. I need to get this scrap back to his mother anyway.”

Ivytail led Fernmask back to the group, pretending as hard as he could that he didn’t feel hostile eyes burning his pelt from what felt like every bush.

“That’s quite a large group of ‘us,’ Ivytail.” Fernmask said, a hint of a growl in her tone. “How do we know you’re not planning an invasion?”

“Do we _look_ like an attack force?” he retorted.

Cindersplash raised her head, her belly swollen so much that Ivytail feared she would start giving birth any heartbeat now. It looked as though poking her side could make kits pop out like seeds from a pod. Starkit hastily scampered back to join Rainkit at Brownstripe’s side. Elders Sundrop, Poppyleaf and Fleetfoot stood around the two queens protectively. Apprentices and mentors closed ranks around the Elders, exhausted by the ordeal that was stretching across several days now. But determination burned in their eyes as they protected their clanmates. The herbs were obviously wearing off. The clan, Ivytail noted with a deep sense of resignation, looked worn and bedraggled: weak and at Thunderclan’s mercy.

Booming barks resounded in the distance and very faintly, yowls of challenge. Ivytail grimaced, and the clan flinched.

“No…” Fernmask gave a slow, deep sigh and relaxed, “No, you don’t look like an attack force. Where are you going?”

When none of his clanmates responded, Ivytail resigned himself to the role of answering for them. “The Moonpool.”

There was a long silence, and then the she cat nodded slowly. “A good place. I don’t think either of those ugly brutes could get in there. However, I think we should escort you there as well. I have the promise of one of your members that you aren’t here to hunt, but one cat cannot speak for the rest of you.”

_The promise of a kit._ Ivytail thought wryly, but he was grateful that the Thunderclan she cat left it at that, letting both clans think that it was Ivytail’s promise. He was a young warrior, and inexperienced. All of the mentors were more senior warriors than he was, but none of them wanted to interrupt what appeared to be a truce that Ivytail was holding between the two clans.

“We?” Ivytail’s father, Runningwhisker, meowed; his eyes darted from Ivytail to Fernmask.

“Of course,” Fernmask meowed, “Do you really think I’m out here all alone? Watch yourself Windclan cat, or you’ll be running a race to see who can run the fastest.”

Something akin to companionship passed between Runningwhisker and Fernmask before his gaze continued into the underbrush. Blackfur, Moonlight, Whiteflame and Redpelt of Thunderclan melted out of the shadows as though the forest had simply set them down all around Windclan’s anxious huddle. All senior warriors, all with moons of battles behind them. Technically, the group of Windclan cats outnumbered the Thunderclan patrol, but the fight would be a desperate one, and one the clan could not afford. It galled Ivytail to admit it to himself.

As the group slowly gathered themselves up and started walking again, Fernmask walked near Ivytail as though to keep an eye on him. Not that she needed to, Windclan were grouped close and protective around their young, pregnant and elderly within the loose circle of Thunderclan cats. There wasn’t a chance in a moon of moons that any Windclan cat would stray from their clanmates in hostile territory.

“Did I hear you correctly?” Fernmask murmured cautiously, “That kit’s name is _Starkit_?”

“It surprised us all,” Ivytail admitted. “His mother is Brownstripe and… well... she decided to have big dreams for Starkit.”

“She does realize that Starkit is the worst possible name for a potential clan leader, right?” Fernmask was still struggling to understand.

Ivytail wrinkled his nose as though catching a bad smell. “Yes, even if Starkit grew into a wise and good leader of Windclan, ‘Starstar’ would be a name that no clan cat would ever let him live down. If it comes to that, I pray Starclan would give him a more… appropriate name.”

There was a moment of silence and then Ivytail ventured hesitantly, “So, no apprentices yet?”

Fernmask blinked slowly. “No.”

Something about her expression made Ivytail look more closely at her. Then he sidled a step closer and murmured, “Congratulations. Rootclaw…?”

A tiny nod. “I won’t be on too many more patrols, so I won’t be able to haul your tail out of whatever deep water you get yourself into.” Humor danced in her eyes.

He huffed in mock anger, “That’s okay, you’ll have your own bundles of trouble, and they’ll be all the revenge I need.”

Catching sight of Moonlight glaring suspiciously at the two of them, he shot Fernmask a warning glance and swung away from the Thunderclan warrior so that he could guide Fleetfoot over a log strewn across their path. The warrior code stated that it was okay to have friends in other clans, but he didn’t need a reminder from any cat that his own clan must come first. And if rumors were true, Moonlight was not a cat who would understand, or forgive, the whole ‘friends in other clans’ bit.

Fernmask was quick on the uptake and meowed clearly; “I hope you’ve learned that Thunderclan will find you if you _dare_ cross our borders again. And you’ll never know we’re coming until you feel our claws in your pelts.”

Ivytail bowed his head in what he hoped was a clear, humble apology.

Windclan paused at the border, eager to return to their territory but warily tasting the air and watching for any sign that the dogs were in sight. Several senior warriors let out deep sighs of relief as the moors remained clear.

“Come on then.” Shymeadow took the lead now that they were back at familiar territory. “Let’s get out of this blasted rustling place before we forget what the sky looks like.”

Ivytail dipped his head respectfully to the Thunderclan warriors and followed the patrol of his clanmates to the path leading to the Moonpool.

“That was quick thinking,” Runningwhisker meowed softly to his son, pride making his eyes glow for a moment.

Ivytail glanced over, surprised.

“You were lucky Fernmask was in that patrol though. Things might have been a bit…sticky… if you hadn’t convinced that patrol that we meant no harm.”

“I was lucky Fernmask remembered me.” Ivytail admitted.

His father nodded. “She’s a good cat. I met her when she was an apprentice. Not two days later, she saved you from the fox and brought you back to us.”

“Did you…? The words stuck in his throat, and suddenly Ivytail was afraid of the answer.

“Did I love her?” Runningwhisker guessed, his eyes warm but steady. “No. Not like I love Rosemask. Not like I love you, and not like I love Dawnpaw.” The senior warrior slowed his pace, letting the clan pull ahead a bit so they could talk more privately. “I respect and admire Fernmask because she has always had an open and kind heart. Rumors whisper that she is responsible for figuring out how to drive the foxes away. Rumors also whisper that she was once a kittypet, just like Freefall and Bast.”

Ivytail gasped, and his father shot him a very sharp look. “I am telling you this in complete confidence, my son. Let no other cat hear that rumor from your mouth. I am telling you this because you, of all cats, know that outsiders can be just as good as a clan cat. It will make you a very wise warrior someday.”

The young warrior nodded solemnly and quickened his pace to help Fleetfoot again. The elder was starting to really feel his age now. His tail was drooping and his breathing was starting to get raspy. He no longer acted like this was a jaunt made for him, and instead seemed to be looking forward to flopping down at the Moonpool.

No one spoke again as they hurried, as much as poor Cindersplash could hurry, through the narrow entrance and spilled down the pathway to the crystal clear pool. Ivytail’s paws slipped into the prints of cats who went before and he felt a sense of welcome and safety, even though it was nothing like the open moors of the clan’s camp. Fleetfoot and the other two elders were drawn away immediately by the waiting warriors and settled into fresh nests that had been made especially for their arrival.

“Ivytail!” Ashwhisker called, “Welcome! If you’re here, that means the warriors here can return to camp.”

Ivytail was briefly surprised by the warrior’s warm welcome, then remembered that he was Swanwing’s mate.

“How’s Swanwing?” he asked anxiously and cats spilled around him, greeted friends and began exploring the temporary dens made in the vibrant green ferns. “Did the dog bite her hard? How are her kits?”

Ashwhisker’s expression grew sober. “Bruised, both body and ego. The bite wasn’t serious… but her belly is still bruised and swollen from the impact; she’s also furious that her body hadn’t been able to ensure a proper landing. The kits are still very tiny, and I’ve been the only one able to get close enough to bring her anything to eat. She’s desperately protective of them. Cindersplash and Brownstripe and the kits will need a separate nursery.”

“But they’re all okay.” Ivytail felt muscles relax that he hadn’t known were even tense until that point.

“Thanks to you.” Ashwhisker meowed with feeling. “Come on, I’ll show you what we’ve managed to build.”

It wasn’t home, Ivytail admitted to himself, but it was definitely safe. The pathway down was too narrow for either dog to get in, and the tightly woven vegetation at the entrance would make it all but impossible for them to shove their way through. Ferns made a lush, rustling shelter overhead. The clean, clear Moonpool ensured that every cat had easy access and the moor was close enough beyond the wall of vegetation that prey would not be too difficult to obtain either. A pile of freshkill welcomed the weary and very hungry Windclan cats.

Once everyone had gotten a bite to eat, the warriors who had been guarding the temporary camp left with calls of farewell in order to return to Swiftstar.

If he hadn’t been so tired, Ivytail would have wondered how his clanmates were coming along against the dogs. There hadn’t been a bark or yowl for hours. He barely opened his eyes when Fawnspot inspected his legs and shook her head, muttering about the long trek being anything but good for his bites. She changed his dressing and told him to stay in his nest until tomorrow.

“Maybe if you don’t go trekking across the whole of Windclan territory again, those bites will have a chance to properly heal,” she chided. “Honestly, if Twolegs can’t be responsible for their dogs, they shouldn’t have them to begin with.”

Ivytail didn’t have the breath to answer and instead simply sank into an exhausted sleep as the setting sun touched the horizon and brought about the warm clear night.


	6. Chapter 6

Ivytail received a nasty shock when he got up to make dirt the following morning and found that his hind legs immediately collapsed beneath him. His gasp and the thud of his hind end hitting the dirt brought Dawnpaw to the warrior’s den to investigate.

Seeing Ivytail’s wide eyed shock and his hind end twisted uncooperatively beneath him, sent his sister shooting straight to Fawnspot’s den as though someone had lit a fire beneath her tail.

“He’s not seriously hurt, Dawnpaw.” Fawnspot reassured the anxious apprentice. “His long trek has just caught up with him, that’s all.” Lonepaw set to work under Fawnspot’s directions, massaging Ivytail’s hind legs until feeling began to return to them.

“No more long treks.” Fawnspot rumbled warningly. “No border patrols, no hunting patrols. You are to stay at the Moonpool all today and all of tonight. Tomorrow, if you can walk three times around camp without resting, we will talk about letting you do a patrol along the Thunderclan border.”

Ivytail grimaced, feeling isolated. He couldn’t help it. The Moonpool, while safe, was still closed in and away from the freedom of the open moors. He felt jumpy with frustrated energy. He wanted to run, to race along through the territory and forget, for even a few precious hours, the challenges the clan faced.

But his bitten hind legs made it clear that what his heart wanted, his body could not do. By the time his legs would support him enough to visit the dirtplace, Fawnspot had replaced the poultice. Afterward, he limped slowly up to the entrance of the Moonpool and took up position on the opposite side of the narrow path, joining Stillnight in guarding the entrance.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” the she-cat asked mildly.

“I can’t. I need something to _do_. Even if I don’t have to move, I need to have something to keep me busy.” Ivytail sat down, his hind legs quivering slightly in protest to his short trek.

Stillnight nodded once and didn’t bring up the subject again, her ears swiveling to catch the sounds coming from beyond the temporary camp. It was Ivytail who spotted the faint stirring of the foliage and growled a challenge.

“Impressive, Ivytail,” came Silvershade’s voice. “I was worried that the Moonpool would be too vulnerable to attack; I thought I could slide through the ferns without being seen.”

“The plants move when you do.” Ivytail meowed, relaxing. “What brings you here?”

The deputy slid out of the plants at last and the young warrior was only barely able to stifle his gasp. Silvershade’s left eye was swollen almost entirely shut, his right, half closed and swollen as well.

Nevertheless, his voice was even and casual as he answered; “Swiftstar. He insists that he can lead the warriors at the camp, but that it would also be good for the clan to have leadership here as well.”

Ivytail held his tongue as the deputy padded slowly past, though Stillnight’s eyes widened in distress. The noble tom had managed to keep his pace measured and smooth, but he had a painful looking bite on the scruff of his neck that smelled of fresh blood, and Ivytail was certain that his meticulously groomed fur hid any number of bumps and bruises.

Swiftstar had sent him to Fawnspot, using the excuse of leadership to take the injured deputy out of the battle. Windclan’s caustic leader was starting to shine in the face of danger to the clan.

“Warriors are dropping like flies,” Stillnight whispered when the tom was out of earshot. “At this rate, it will be the injured who protect the elders and the kits and the apprentices who protect the camp!”

Ivytail closed his eyes and shook his head. Swiftstar was blunt, but even he had known that the newly apprenticed ‘paws couldn’t possibly know enough fighting moves to risk back at camp.

He remained at the camp entrance even when Stillnight left with a patrol for food. He remained when several mentors left with their apprentices to step up their much needed training. He would have stayed until the sun set, had Silvershade not ordered him inside to eat and rest.

“Your eyes will start to blur by now. Enough watching for a while.” Most of the swelling had gone down and the deputy’s eyes were clear and understanding. “You will have your time in battle young warrior. But in order for that to happen, you must rest now.”

Ivytail obeyed, casting long glances back at the open moors beyond the Moonpool. There hadn’t been a sign or sound all day, and tonight was the night of the Gathering. It was too quiet. With the moon up, the dogs might be able to see the Windclan patrol leaving the camp. They would have to pass the dogs to get to the island. And they would have to pass the dogs again to get back to Windclan territory.

Silently, he prayed to Starclan that his clanmates would make it safely.

 

 .

 

Ivytail returned to the Moonpool a few days later, proudly dragging a rabbit back to camp. Fawnspot had finally cleared him for hunting and patrol and he was glad to have something to do again. Ashwhisker was on border patrol, but he felt like he could risk bringing something to Swanwing and her kits. And to let himself see the tiny, precious lives he had saved. He just hoped she would remember that and not take his nose off for sticking it through the ferns. She still let no other cat near her, though if a cat listened hard, they could hear her murmuring to them. She barely took breaks, and never for longer than it took to visit the dirtplace the clan had set aside. And even then, only when Ashwhisker was there to curl around them protectively.

“Swanwing?” he meowed tentatively, keeping carefully back and announcing his presence so he wouldn’t startle the queen.

“Go away!” snarled the queen.

Ivytail flinched, but didn’t let it ruffle his fur. It was her standard response these days.

“Swanwing, It’s Ivytail. I brought you a rabbit.”

There was a silence, and then when she spoke again, it was in a calmer tone, “Ivytail? Oh. Well, better bring it in then.”

Letting out a breath of relief, he lifted the rabbit and slid carefully through the screen of ferns, treading as lightly as he could so he wouldn’t find a kit beneath his paws.

“They’re at my belly, Ivytail. You don’t have to tread like you’re on eggs.”

As he set the rabbit down for her to eat, he let his eyes adjust to the dappled light and finally got a good look.

Ferns arched over the nursery in a sheltering canopy that kept the place shaded from the afternoon sun. A little white she cat with gray streaking up her nose and pooling down to the back of her head nursed next to a white tom with cream stockings huddled against their mother, nursing eagerly.

“Rosekit and Bravekit,” she introduced them in a proud whisper. “Fawnspot fought to keep Bravekit alive until she was exhausted and much of the afternoon had passed. In the end, Bravekit uttered his first cry just as Fawnspot was starting to give in to despair.”

“A wonderful name,” Ivytail murmured, “and I think he will live up to it well one day.”

“I wanted to thank you,” Swanwing never looked away from her kits, but her words were genuine, “I saw what you did to that dog, and I know you risked your life to save me and my unborn kits.”

Warmth spread in Ivytail’s chest. “I’m glad it worked. They’re beautiful kits and they’re growing fast.” He hesitated, and then tentatively asked, “Do you think they’ll be strong enough to join the others soon?”

For an instant, he was afraid he’d said the wrong thing. Swanwing stiffened and the fur along her back lifted into a sharp ridge. In tune to their mother’s distressed mood, the two kits whimpered and pressed themselves closer to their mother. Then, slowly, she relaxed again.

“I’ve been difficult to deal with, I know.” She looked away, “Fawnspot didn’t say anything, but I suspect I would have lost them both if she hadn’t come when she had. I’ve been so desperate to protect them I have been afraid to let them out of my sight for longer than a few heartbeats.” For a long moment, Ivytail wasn’t sure if she would ever directly answer his question, then she sighed deeply. “If Fawnspot says they’re strong enough to meet the other kits, I will join the other queens.”

“It would probably do you some good to have the time to give yourself a proper grooming and to share tongues with Ashwhisker again.” Ivytail dared to mention, “I’m sure you’d feel better if you didn’t have to worry about the kits every heartbeat of every day.” He didn’t bring up that the queen had obviously not given herself a proper grooming since the kits had been born and that her fur looked as though it had been stirred around like leaves in a good Greenleaf wind. Best not to risk his life by saying something like _that_.

Swanwing hesitated, then began to tuck into the rabbit with a sigh, “I would like that.”

“Praise Starclan!” Ashwhisker breathed as Fawnspot gave the all clear for Swanwing’s move.

There were a few anxious heartbeats as the irascible queen joined the other two, but she was welcomed into the warmth. A few hours later Ashwhisker even managed to draw Swanwing out for a lengthy session of sharing tongues.

 

.

 

Ivytail had ranged as far as he dared over the following days without interfering with the warriors at camp, though he was beginning to grow puzzled and more than a little anxious. Every time he managed to catch a glimpse of it, there was little movement to be seen. And he had not encountered a patrol in the times he had been out and about in Windclan territory. Where were they? Why weren’t they hunting or patrolling? There were no screams of cats in a battle for their lives, and no scent of blood or death to show that the clan had been wiped out.

Silvershade gave him permission to check on the camp and bring news back so that a decision could be made regarding the clan.

The camp… was destroyed.

The sight struck Ivytail like a blow from the monster dog. A frantic investigation revealed that there wasn’t much left of the camp. The place where the freshkill was stored was empty, and the scent of prey was days old. The protective heather where the nursery had been was torn and pounded down. The reek of dog was everywhere and even the place where Fawnspot’s herbs usually lay was stale and old. The herbs that had been left behind were thoroughly dried out and useless.

Defeated, he slunk back into the middle of the destroyed camp and tried to think. There had been no blood. No bodies. No scent of death, no matter how stale. For that matter, no wounded cats had been sent to the Moonpool for healing. The clan couldn’t have vanished, so where could they go where they would be unseen but safe?

It was then that Ivytail was struck by a faint hope that he clung to like a burr. If he was right, then all he had to do was check behind the nursery.


	7. Chapter 7

To his relief, the scent of the clan was stale, but strong as he moved behind the nursery and found the shallow channel where the water had carved the path all those moons ago. Slipping into the groove, he padded along it until the edges rose above his head and the long, springy grass hung over to tickle his ears.

As the walls rose over him and seemed to close in on either side, he swallowed anxiously. Padding into the deep ditch worn into the earth brought back memories. Bad ones. If the scent of the clan hadn’t been so reassuring, he probably would have leaped out as though he had sat on a thorn and forgotten the whole thing. As it was, there wasn’t even a hint of that horrible, foul smelling mud, and the bottom was actually dry and slightly sandy. The soft sand cushioned his paws as he padded into the deepening gloom of the ditch.

The scent of the clan grew stronger the further he went, until he expected to bump into a warrior around every bend. The light was dim, and he couldn't see very far, but the scent wasn't blown away here the way it was aboveground.

Another bend, and he swore as his paw struck a large flat stone. Feeling its hard edges with careful paws, he noted that the stone filled the channel halfway. Hopping on top of it, he was able to pop his head above the sheltering grass and look around at the Windclan territory. Excitement filled his veins as he realized this stone made the perfect ambush point!

Even as he thought it, there was a flash of movement farther off in the distance. A fleeing rabbit raced ahead of a pursuing warrior, who pounced close at the rabbit's heels. Why didn't the warrior strike? Windclan warriors didn’t usually chase rabbits that close without catching their prey. Then another flash of movement as a second warrior seemed to explode upward from the ground and had the rabbit by the throat before it had a chance to realize that the danger came from the front, not from behind.

"Excellent catch!" he yowled.

Both warriors paused and turned his way. Finally, he could see that they were Foxdash and Stonefall.

"Who's there?" Stonefall called.

"Ivytail from the Moonpool camp. I came to see how the clan was doing."

"Ivytail! Great! Glad to hear your legs are doing better. Follow the gully you're in and take a left at the branch. Keep following the main channel and you'll find our new camp. See you there!" With a flick of their tails, the two warriors vanished quickly from sight.

Ivytail followed the directions, finding warrior placed stones scattered along the length until Swiftstar called a greeting as light spilled down into his eyes. He found himself in a broad, shallow hole, with grasses hanging down and the sun spilling through the circular opening above. It wasn't large enough for the whole clan, but the warriors were able to rest comfortably beneath the stars. A clean breeze gently swirled in the new camp, keeping things fresh and clear.

"Ivytail, good to see your legs work well again." Swiftstar rumbled. "How goes the Moonpool? Swanwing's kits?"

Heads turned eagerly in his direction, and Ivytail saw hunger in the eyes of his clanmates. Hunger for news. Hunger for gossip. Hunger for that precious connection between family and friends. He felt the weight of his clan’s need and the bond that kept them together as a proper clan. The importance struck him and he hastily cobbled together all the gossip he could remember to share with the warriors in this temporary camp.

"Very well," he told them all. "Swanwing is calm again, and the kits are strong enough to join the others into a single nursery. Ashwhisker can probably come to join you if you need him, now that his kits are safe from danger. Silvershade is keeping us busy hunting and patrolling the Thunderclan side of the territory and the 'paws are training hard."

Nods of approval and gratitude came from all around.

“Prey has been plentiful for us, and there has been no sign of dogs or the twoleg anywhere near us. We feel welcomed by Starclan at the Moonpool, but every cat wants to return home as soon as we can.” Ivytail’s gossip wound down as he ran out of things to tell his clanmates. After swallowing, he asked; "What happened?"

Swiftstar's eyes hardened and he padded close to give his own report to the young warrior as the rest of the warriors dispersed.

"That should be obvious! We were driven out!" The fury in his leader's eyes showed Ivytail just how much it cost him to say those words. "The monster dog attacked us shortly after your half of the clan left us for the last time. It did not stop until it stood in the middle of camp, biting, snapping and throwing warriors in all directions. Our sheer numbers kept it from killing us, but its strength kept us from driving it off. Silvershade was bitten by the scruff of his neck and thrown clear out of camp trying to rescue Nettlefoot. Rosemask remembered the gullies and we retreated into them. We were lucky; the dog was too stupid to realize where we had disappeared to and destroyed the camp behind us looking for our hiding places."

Ivytail closed his eyes at the horrible thought of that monster's massive paws crushing the nursery in search for victims among the heather. He was very, very glad that the queens and kits were at the Moonpool now.

When he opened his eyes again, Swiftstar continued. "It won't stop, and it won't let up. We've been forced to hunt from the gullies and duck quickly back into hiding. That beast has been watching our territory, and every cat who appears for longer than a few heartbeats is a target."

"Hunted in our own territory!" Ivytail and Swiftstar growled as one, and then blinked in surprise at one another.

"Yes. Well. Now you know the situation. We do well enough here, but we can't live like this forever, and we cannot trust that the dogs will just eventually leave. Bareleaf will fill these gullies with snow and the next Greenleaf will flood us back into the open. The Moonpool is a temporary place at best and we already press upon Starclan's hospitality as it is."

"Er, speaking of which, what should be done about tonight?" Ivytail asked the question that had started itching between his ears.

"Tonight? Oh, that's right. The Medicine Cats." Swiftstar's tail flopped back and forth thoughtfully. "Keep a warrior at the entrance of the Moonpool, but have Silvershade order everyone else into their dens as soon as they arrive. We'll give them as much privacy as we can to share tongues with Starclan. There’s no reason for us to interfere with the Medicine Cat’s duties, and Medicine Cats don’t spy."

Ivytail nodded, committing the information to memory. It was nice to hear Swiftstar say something nice about cats from other clans for once.

“I’m going to have Nettlefoot show you the path back to the gully nearest the Moonpool.” Swiftstar said, his tail curling around his front paws. “I’m going to need you to ferry messages whenever you can be spared. You’re a young, quick warrior, and you should be able to get back and forth between the camps without exhausting yourself. Silvershade needs updates, and we need to work out a plan to get rid of that dog once and for all.”

Pride welled in his chest. Swiftstar’s praise was as rare as a fat mouse in Leafbare, and the fact that his leader trusted him to keep the clan well informed reassured him that he wasn’t going to be forgotten or bustled aside because of his injuries.

 

.

 

Stonestripe was the first to arrive that night, greeting Fawnspot with a cheery call and padding past Shymeadow at the entrance with a friendly nod. Shymeadow greeted the Thunderclan Medicine Cat as if he were an old friend and signaled with her tail to Silvershade.

Before Stonestripe reached the end of the path leading down to the shore of the pool, Silvershade had the clan on the move to their nests.

Appleseed and Briarrose came down shortly after and Ivytail was just able to hear the Windclan Deputy promising all of them that the clan would grant them as much privacy as possible while they shared tongues with Starclan. Satisfied, the young warrior settled into his nest and watched the shadows of gently swaying ferns and moonlight before sinking into deep sleep.

Confusion flicked through him. The grass didn’t feel right beneath his belly. And a strange smell quickly grew overpowering, forcing his eyes to flash wide open in sudden wakefulness.

He could have sworn he had closed his eyes in his nest. So why were his eyes suddenly open in the middle of a nightmarish place? Straight cliff-like walls stretched overhead and turned at sharp angles to blot out the sky in an equally straight and featureless plain. Alien shapes loomed over and around him. Beyond his sight and through a massive square hole in the tall cliff-walls, something grumbled and growled like a monster. The ground was covered in something thick and soft, like moss. He tried to take a step and stumbled as the soft stuff caught and snagged at his claws as he flexed them anxiously.

The place positively _reeked_ of twoleg, and the only thing that mediated that stench was the scent of two cats, scents still familiar even after all this time.

“Bast?” he meowed cautiously, “Freefall?”

“Muh? Who’s there?” demanded a sleepy and somewhat grumpy voice.

The exotic gray face of the kittypet known as Freefall rose out of a giant nest-like twoleg thing and peered at him with sleep fogged eyes. The kittypet’s gaze cleared quickly and he hopped out of the thing, padding across the soft ground with an ease that spoke of long practice.

“Ivypaw? Is that really you? You’ve grown! How’s your sister? Dawnkit right?”

“I’m Ivytail now, a full grown warrior. And she’s Dawnpaw now, apprenticed and training hard.” Warmth trickled through Ivytail’s heart at the kittypet’s friendly greeting and his obviously clear memory of him.

“Congratulations,” there was genuine warmth in the kittypet’s kind eyes as the two made themselves comfortable.

“Thank you, but I wish this was a friendly visit for gossip. I think Starclan brought me here because you might be able to help us.” Ivytail hoped he wasn’t wrong in his guess, because it was the only thing that made sense. Why else would he be in a place he had never been to, seen or ever even dreamed about? Quickly he told the whole story, and Freefall’s face grew somber as he listened.

“Pffeh. Dogs.” The hatred and horror in Freefall’s tone whispered of stories unshared and experiences never forgotten. “Normally they’re nothing but a nuisance, rather than a threat. But…” The kittypet seemed to be fixated on a memory in the distant past. “…there was one that every cat in the twoleg place hated and feared. It was huge, and evil. It was whispered that a kit wandered out of the safe nest its mother had made and… and the dog… found it.”

Something cold seized Ivytail’s heart and would not let go.

Freefall was quiet for so long that the young warrior feared that the kind kittypet was lost in a dream of a different sort. When he spoke again, his voice was very quiet, and Ivytail inched closer across the moss-like floor in order to hear him better.

“That was the beginning of the true nightmare. The dog developed a… a taste for cats after that.”

_The dog had… and the kit... and… and… It ate a kit!_ The thought was so horrific that he felt disbelief at war with his horror. _Surely nothing could be so evil as to eat a kit? Could it? Truly such monsters couldn’t exist in the world, right?_ A wail of horror bubbled up in his throat and his stomach heaved several times before he could control himself. Ivytail forced both down so that he could hear Freefall talk.

“It was too big.” Freefall whispered, sounding broken, “Cats banded together. Even cats that normally couldn’t stand one another banded together to protect themselves from the dog. It only helped a little. The dog killed any cat it could, gravely injured those it couldn’t kill. Cats would… vanish… when their friends swore they couldn’t have gone more than a few fox lengths out of direct sight. The Rogues and Loners were terrified. Cats could barely sleep without waking up with yowls of terror, driven awake by nightmares.”

“What finally happened?” Ivytail finally managed.

“A big, bad, old tomcat covered in scars came from outside the twoleg place. He didn’t know about the dog and before anyone could warn him, he was attacked. But his screams were of rage, not pain. Cats who watched the fight claimed that the tomcat moved like a thrashing snake. The dog couldn’t get a hold of him. The cat shredded the dog’s ears, clawed its lips, scratched its tongue… every injury was to the dog’s face. All the tender spots on a cat are apparently just as tender on a dog.” Freefall seemed to relish the fight he described, and then grew somber. “By the time I came to see the commotion, I was just in time to see the climax. Blood was everywhere, and not a single drop of it belonged to the old tom. The tough, old, battle-scarred rogue finally scratched out the dog’s left eye with his claws. The dog fled, pain and rage driving it beyond reason. It attacked the next thing that moved, which happened to be a twoleg kit and its parents passing by.”

Ivytail gasped. The thought of a dog evil enough to eat a kit and then turning to twoleg kits was far too easy to imagine; slavering jaws stretching wide to bite and tear…

“The twoleg kit wailed in terror, and the female shrieked and tried to push the kit to safety. A nearby male twoleg bellowed in rage at the sight of the dog attacking. There was a roar like thunder from the male twolegs hands, and the dog dropped down, dead.”

Slowly Freefall seemed to pull himself out of his memory and his eyes cleared somewhat, though he still looked haunted. “The old Rogue vanished before any cat could thank him or learn his moves, but every cat remembers that the old rogue fought rather than fled, and that it was the twolegs who were strong enough to stop the dog.”

Ivytail took a deep shuddering breath and cast away the echoes of evil that still rang distantly between his ears. That monster was long dead, and this dog… well it hadn’t gotten the chance yet so maybe, just maybe, the clan could prevent such a creature from rising from the blood of cats.

“Thank you Freefall. I’ll share that information with my clan. I’m sure we can drive this dog away.”

The kittypet blinked away the clouds that shifted behind his eyes and nodded. “Be very careful Ivytail. By the sounds of it, your problem could very easily turn into… well… just don’t let it kill a clan mate.”

Relief flicked through the young warrior. “We won’t,” he promised. Somehow, he had to force the twoleg to control the beast. Maybe if he pushed the ‘chase past humans’ thing a bit farther…

“Good. Now, before you go, there’s something I want to show you… well… several somethings…” Freefall led Ivytail to the twoleg thing where he had been lying and nodded inside.

Bast lay curled up, deeply asleep with four balls of fluff at her belly. Their ears were too big for their heads at this point, but Ivytail could see that they would grow to have the same exotic and elegant features as their parents.

“Mosskit, Brookkit, Windkit and Riverkit.” Freefall whispered.

“Windkit and Riverkit,” Ivytail repeated in a whisper, knowing that the two kittypets had given them those names for a very specific reason.

“They’re too young yet to decide, but we’re pretty sure we know who will choose kittypet life and who will chose the life of a wild cat. We have a clan here in our twoleg place. And they have been learning … and living… all the things we have taught them. They have agreed to take in any apprentice who wishes to join them. And they will live lives similar to the clans.”

Ivytail felt a swell of awe at the kittypet’s words. Other clans existing far beyond the lake, living just as noble and strong, all brought about by a kittypet and what he remembered from Riverclan.

“Would you…” Freefall hesitated, “Well, that is, when you get a chance, would you tell Secretweb and Clearlake what you saw here? I think they would be very happy to hear how we’re doing.”

The young tom blinked warmly, “I will do my best. It may be a while before we have a chance but…”

Freefall nodded, “The dog comes first. Be safe, and be strong young warrior. Your clan can do this…”

The kittypet’s voice faded as the scene melted away, and he opened his eyes to the Moonpool once again.


	8. Chapter 8

Freefall sought out Silvershade after the dawn patrol padded up the path and out of the Moonpool. As he described his dream, the Deputy’s face did not change expression. For a moment, Ivytail was afraid the Deputy wouldn’t take him seriously, or that he was becoming bored with what the young warrior was telling him.

When he described the ancient dog devouring a kit, however, Silvershade sprang to his feet with a snarl of horror and rage that made several cats look up in alarm. Breathing heavily, claws biting into the soft grass again and again, he needed several deep breaths before he could sit down again and gesture for Ivytail to continue. No longer impassive, the Deputy leaned forward, as eagerly as any kit listening to an elder, as the warrior described the fight and subsequent end to the evil dog. Finally he closed his eyes, ears slowly twitching as though to help him chase thoughts back and forth in his head.

“I admit,” Silvershade rumbled softly, “I was skeptical and even angry that you were thinking of soft twoleg homes and mushy kittypet lives. But now there is no doubt. Starclan sent you there to learn what you did. Perhaps it is your connection with the kittypets that saved you and your sister that made it possible, rather than our Medicine Cat.”

“I do not want to be a kittypet, Silvershade,” Ivytail swore fervently. “I do not want to eat mush or be trapped in a reeking twoleg nest all day, to be let out only when the twoleg sees fit.”

The gray tom’s whiskers twitched slightly, “Well, you don’t need to defend yourself to me, young warrior. I never once thought you would abandon Fleetfoot’s affection, nor even your sister. Not after you snuck out on your own to try to get her back on that terrible night instead of getting an experienced warrior to help you search.”

Ivytail’s ears heated with embarrassment. It had not been his finest moment; worried more about getting his sister back so she wouldn’t get in trouble rather than worrying that maybe she was gone for more sinister reasons.

“I was angry,” Silvershade concluded, “because I thought you were dwelling on things that we didn’t have time to reminisce over right now.” He tilted his head, and Ivytail could see things fitting together behind the Deputy’s eyes. “Your suggestion has merit, but we need to plan this, and train for it.”

“I already have an idea,” Freefall admitted. “What if we made it look like the dog was causing problems with the twoleg territory?”

The Deputy looked intrigued. “The horseplace?”

Ivytail nodded. “Those dogs are visitors. Their twoleg lets them do as they please. The twoleg that cares for the horses might find reason to put the dogs, and the visiting twoleg, in their proper place for once. And then there’s the sheep.”

A wicked gleam came to Silvershade’s eyes, “Yes.” He murmured, “Yes, a horse is big enough to give that brute reason to hesitate. A small, fluffy sheep…”

Thunder boomed.

Silvershade straightened in surprise and scanned the horizon. He wasn’t alone. The Moonpool group had all frozen in mid-task and stared at the sky.

The sky was clear. High wispy clouds softened the bright sunlight, but there was no sign of the dark clouds that heralded a thunderstorm.

Ivytail shifted uneasily from paw to paw as tension thickened in the clan. Just as the clan cats started to move again, thunder boomed again.

“Silvershade…” Stillnight started uncertainly.

“Shh!” Larkflight hissed sharply, “Do you hear that?”

Silence.

Then…

“I hear it!” Silvershade was on his paws.

Very faintly, there was the barking of the long legged dog.

Barking.

Barking.

Silence.

BOOM!

More thunder.

“Something’s happening with those dogs. It has to be connected.” Silvershade lashed his tail. “We need to know. Ivytail, we need you to check on the clan, see if they know what’s going on, and whether the warriors need to come here. Also, tell Swiftstar your idea.”

Ivytail bowed his head and stretched to get the blood flowing to his legs.

A tail touched his back and he turned to look at his Deputy. “Go quick, go careful. May Starclan guide your paws.” The gray tom looked serious.

“I’ll use the ditches.” Ivytail promised, and then was off, vanishing into the shadowed tunnel of earth and grass.

Following the twists and turns, Ivytail made it to the temporary camp in near record time, hearing the boom of cloudless thunder several times as he did.

“What’s going on?” he panted, skidding into the bright sunshine. “We can hear the thunder all the way at the Moonpool!”

“It’s not thunder.” Ivytail forgot to breathe at the helpless rage in Swiftstar’s eyes. The normally surly and quick tempered clan leader was now pacing back and forth, his tail lashing and lips drawn back from his teeth in a snarl.

“I’ll show him,” Foxdash meowed quickly, “Come on, before he starts ranting.”

A puzzled Ivytail followed the swift warrior through another maze of ditches then stopping abruptly at one of the stones placed by the warriors.

“Climb up, and be very, very quiet.” The red tom all but breathed in Ivytail’s ear.

Sunlight blinded the young warrior briefly. Blinking his eyes clear of the bright sunlight, he spotted the visiting twoleg standing with its back to him, a long twoleg thing in its strange paws. Abruptly the barking began, and Ivytail’s jaw dropped as the long legged dog charged into view, pursuing a rabbit.

The twoleg whistled what could only be a command, raising the long thing on level to its face.

The barking stopped.

The dog stopped.

The rabbit fled on.

Thunder and a small cloud of smoke erupted from the end of the long thing.

The rabbit was no longer running, but tumbling end over end in the tall grass before coming to a stop, hidden.

The long legged dog bounded forward again, seizing the rabbit’s body and carrying it proudly back to its master.

Confusion made Ivytail’s fur prickle. Had the boom of thunder scared the rabbit to death?

As if to answer the dog turned slightly and the warrior stiffened in horror. A perfectly round hole had been drilled through the rabbit’s head. Blood still dripped from the sad little carcass as the twoleg crooned praises to its dog and took the body, adding it to a sizeable pile that could have fed the whole clan for weeks.

No, scratch that, the prey pile would have turned to crowfood before the clan could consume that much. Numb with horror, Ivytail watched as the human whistled again, and the dog bounded off, questing here and there before starting up its barking pursuit once again.

Foxdash poked Ivytail with a paw, and when Ivytail couldn’t turn away from the horror of another rabbit being hunted down, the more experienced warrior shoved him off the other side of the rock. View cut off, Ivytail shook his head and stared at his clanmate numbly.

“Come on!” Foxdash hissed. “There’s nothing we can do for now. If that dog finds us, we’ll go the way of those rabbits!”

More out of habit of following orders than by conscious decision, the young tom followed.

The barking stopped.

Thunder boomed.

Ivytail threw back his head to yowl at the injustice of it all, but was silenced by a tail slapping across his mouth and a stern Foxdash glaring into his eyes. “I know how you feel, Ivytail, I really do. But we _must_ be quiet. That twoleg has yet to miss a kill, and if we are driven out into the open…”

Ivytail swallowed a whimper and nodded.

Satisfied the older warrior led the way back to the camp.

Swiftstar had apparently decided to rant anyway, “...hunting! Hunting in OUR territory! And not for food, but for sport! There’s no way even those greedy guts can eat all that prey! We have to do something! They’re not stopping! There won’t be any prey left to us by the end of the day at the rate they’re going!”

“What do you suggest?” senior warrior Frostpelt asked tiredly. “You know that the thing the twoleg carries can kill at a distance. How many of us would fall before a blow was landed?”

“Swiftstar, we may have the beginnings of a plan. For the big dog at least.” Ivytail cut in when the clan leader took a breath.

Intrigued, Swiftstar let out the breath without speaking and flicked his tail to indicate that the young warrior was to continue.

Feeling the eager eyes of warriors upon him, Ivytail felt his pelt prickling. “Twolegs are possessive of their territory just like clans. The horseplace belongs to the twoleg that lives here, and the twoleg with the dogs does not live here. Silvershade thinks that if we lead the big one through the sheep, the owner would think the dog was attacking them.” He kept his mouth shut about the dream. Swiftstar had enough without things getting muddled by kittypet dreams and horror stories.

The clan leader narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “That’s a very good idea. Tonight we will scout out a route and practice. We’ll need the fastest warriors.”

Ivytail sat up straighter, eyes shining hopefully.

“Your legs?” Swiftstar asked curtly.

“Good as new,” he stretched them and flexed his hind claws easily, “I’ve hunted and patrolled on them.”

The clan leader nodded. “Go back to the Moonpool and update everyone. Bring Fawnspot with herbs for injuries by sunrise tomorrow. If all goes well, no one will be hurt. If it goes wrong…”

Ivytail grimaced and nodded.

The trek back to camp seemed to take no time at all, and the cats at the Moonpool gasped and murmured in shock and disbelief as Ivytail related the story of the rabbits.

“Swiftstar approves of the plan,” Ivytail continued after letting the clan absorb the facts. “Fawnspot and I are to rejoin the clan with herbs at dawn tomorrow.”

The medicine cat grimaced and disappeared into her temporary den. Lonepaw looked uncomfortable and kept throwing long looks at Cindersplash.

“Hey,” Ivytail called and padded over to him, dropping his voice to a whisper, “We’re practically under Starclan’s paws. If ever there was a good place to have kits, this is it. Our ancestors will be right with you if you need their wisdom.”

“Easy to say!” Lonepaw snapped, hackles raising. Then he sighed and slumped. “I’m sorry Ivytail. I know it’s not your fault. But this will be the first time I will be responsible for the safety of kits without Fawnspot to be right there in case something goes wrong.”

“I know you’re only a few moons into your apprenticeship,” Ivytail reassured him. “Think of it as an early assessment. And you won’t be alone. Not really.”

Lonepaw managed a small twitch of his whiskers, but didn’t look convinced. “Take care of yourselves.” He meowed solemnly. “Our clan needs to be whole again, and soon.”

“Get some rest,” Silvershade told them both, “Tomorrow comes before the sun rises if you want to get there in time.

A final boom punctuated his words and every cat shuddered.


	9. Chapter 9

By the time the sun crept above the horizon, Fawnspot and Ivytail were once again with the warriors of the clan, carrying massive bundles of herbs that the fretful medicine cat sorted through as the swiftest warriors gathered around Swiftstar:

The few warriors that weren’t part of the running team were the strongest warriors. These cats were part of a second team situated along the flight path. If the dog caught a runner, the stronger clanmates would be there to rescue them.

“Ivytail, you will run the last, and hardest, path.” Swiftstar ordered, walking the young warrior to his spot. “The rest of the clan have practiced the path leading up to the sheep…” The clan leader trailed off and stiffened.

The pen where the sheep usually grazed was empty!

Swiftstar’s mouth shut with a snap. Finally he growled. “Stay right here. Don’t let yourself be seen. Foxdash is the one who will come before you. Watch, and wait, and be ready. This may take a while. Don’t let your legs cramp up; we may only have a moment’s notice.”

The dark gray clan leader was away in a bound, and vanished among the springy grass like his name suggested. Sighing faintly, Ivytail settled into a more comfortable position to wait for a signal.

Time crept along and the cool morning was just starting to warm when bleats of complaint rose from the horseplace. Ivytail took a risk and popped his head out of his hiding place.

Confusion swamped him.

The twoleg that lived in the horseplace was holding a sheep in an unnatural position and running a strange, buzzing object over the animal. The sheep complained in its alien voice, but didn’t struggle or panic. This was normal, perhaps?

As the young warrior watched, the sheep’s winter coat fell away in a massive lump, leaving the sheep nearly naked in the early morning warmth.

The sheep showed what could only be pleasure as it leaped and bounced around in its new, thin summer coat, and then galloped away into the sunshine to graze. One by one, the sheep were all treated in this manner and Ivytail could feel his eyelids beginning to droop. This was boring! And it was taking too long! Oh, of all the days that the twoleg would pick to mess about with its sheep, it would be this day!

Just as he was beginning to doze off, there was a bleat much deeper than the others. Snapping awake, he saw that the final sheep was being maneuvered into place by the twoleg. But this beast was different from the others. Long, hard horns curled away from its head. And instead of placidly waiting to be stripped of its winter coat, it struggled and squirmed. It even showed its displeasure by trying to butt the twoleg with its horns.

The twoleg was having none of it and wrestled the strange sheep into place before giving it the same treatment as the others. Finally it was released into the pen, where it raced back and forth in irritation before butting the bars of its pen so hard that the entire side of the pen shook violently.

Ivytail swallowed hard. He had to race through the pen with THAT angry thing charging about?

“Great Starclan!” Foxdash breathed behind him. “I came to tell you that we’re taking a break and this is what I find? We have to change our plan! That beast will kill any cat it catches on its horns!”

Ivytail closed his eyes and let out a deep, relieved breath.

Swiftstar scowled at the report from the two warriors and ordered them to show him the strange beast. His expression turned to alarm when the horned sheep spotted him and rammed the fence next to the clan leader’s head.

“Starclan save us if that fence came down…” He breathed, looking shaken for the first time in Ivytail’s memory. “Back to camp, both of you. We need to talk this over with the other warriors.”

As if to mock them for their faint-heartedness, the cloudless thunder boomed over the temporary camp as Swiftstar reported the strange, aggressive sheep’s behavior.

“But the dogs…” Nettlefoot protested, and then stopped herself at Swiftstar’s cold glare.

“I will not put a warrior’s life in unnecessary danger,” the clan leader growled, “but we don’t have the time to waste waiting for a new plan. The plan we have is already good. We just need to alter it. Senior warriors, to me. The rest of you, get some rest and try to stay cool.”

A combination of guilt and warmth prickled through the young ton’s pelt. Swiftstar was talking about _him_. The dark tom truly cared for his clan; for all that he was aggressive. But… it was for Ivytail’s sake that the plan was being called off. And it had been Ivytail’s plan. It felt wrong to give the clan hope, only for that hope to be dashed like an egg against a rock.

He shared a meager meal of a squirrel that had been caught after crossing the Thunderclan border, but his thoughts were far away from the food that slid into his belly.

“Son, if your fur lifts any higher, you will look like a hedgehog.” Rosemask mewed to him gently, licking the last trace of squirrel from her whiskers. “What thoughts caper about in that furry skull of yours?”

“Er… never mind. It’s nothing.” How could he explain it? His mother worried about him enough as it was, and she’d been through enough worrying over both himself and his sister in the past four seasons.

She cuffed him gently, “Nothing? The last time you tried to convince me of that, you were trying to sneak a beetle into Sundrop’s bedding because he wanted you punished for mouthing off to him.”

“Mother, that was _ages_ ago! And I was a stupid kit then!” Ivytail squirmed at that memory. He’d been restricted to the nursery for what felt like forever for that trick, and he’d hated hearing the other kits playing outside while he sulked inside, bored out of his little skull.

“Then talk to me,” she insisted.

Ivytail explained, and saw the old fear slide through his mother’s eyes for a moment before she shook her fur out and nodded. “Neither of those things is your fault, son.” She chided him. You’re right that Swiftstar worries about your safety. We all almost lost you and your sister both. He worries about the clan daily. But he doesn’t blame you, and he doesn’t expect you to think of everything any more than he expects you to snatch a warrior ancestor from the sky.”

“I would if I could,” even to his own ears, Ivytail sounded sullen. “If it would keep the clan safe…”

Rosemask purred deeply and pressed her cheek to his, “Starclan would honor you for your willingness, and I know you would try if you thought it would help.”

The group of senior warriors around the clan leader broke up, and Swiftstar stepped forward. “We have come up with a plan. Ashwhisker has agreed to distract the aggressive sheep so that Ivytail may lead the dog among them.”

Ivytail blinked and glanced at the cream tom, who nodded warmly to him.

“The sun is at its peak.” Swiftstar continued, “It’s too warm to race around in the heat of the day. We’ll wait for things to cool down a bit and then we’ll get back into place.”

“Hey,” Ivytail said softly to the warrior as the gathered warriors dispersed to rest, “I helped Swanwing the way I would have helped any clan cat. You don’t have to feel like you owe me anything.”

Ashwhisker purred kindly, “Maybe not, but it would still make me feel better to be there with you on your part of the plan. And regardless of owing you or not, somebody has to distract that cranky sheep.”

“I’m grateful for that!” the young warrior admitted, “I thought it was going to take down the fence!”

“Get some rest,” Swiftstar ordered them, though much less gruffly than usual.

By the time a cooling breeze started up, the sky was just starting to turn red and shadows grew long. Ivytail and Ashwhisker crouched in position.

It was at this point that Ivytail discovered a new kind of fear. There was fear in battle; the fear of losing a clanmate or yourself to a terrible wound. There was fear of the various dangers found in the clan territory; snakes, badgers, foxes…

But then there was a new fear; the kind that stalked the back of your thoughts like a vicious Rogue; slipping through shadows; stalking… closing in… letting you realize just what was going to happen to you before the first blow ever landed. There were so many things that could go wrong.

The dog might not be fooled by the line of cats, leading it on. The dog might catch a warrior and bring the line to a halt as they tried to fend it off. The dog might get tired of running. The dog might not be interested in leaping the fence. The sheep might not be interested in Ashwhisker enough to miss Ivytail’s flight…

These thoughts just kept repeating themselves as he took up his position again. He swore that his heart had forgotten to beat at least twice while he fretted silently.

And then there was a booming bark and there was no more time for thinking, worrying or even praying to Starclan. The young warrior’s heart pounded as Ashwhisker sprinted along the fence to the opposite side. The angry bleat of a sheep was nearly drowned out by the snarling of the dog as it raced closer. Then Foxdash plunged into the long grass behind Ivytail and he was off, racing ahead of the hot breath of the beast behind him.

Dimly, he heard an angry shout from the twolegs as he leaped through the gap between the boards that made up the fence around the sheep. He landed and kept going, eyes locked on the maze of legs ahead of him as the confused sheep clustered and bleated in alarm and confusion at the racket.

The ground shook with the impact of the dog landing behind him. It had cleared the fence! It was working!

Then pain lanced through his tail and he was jerked to a stop so suddenly that his paws flew out from underneath him.

Growling, the dog released the end of his tail and bit again, higher. Ivytail shrieked and clawed futilely at the earth, the milling sheep still a foxlength away. The dog dropped his tail and Ivytail lunged for the safety of the stinking, bleating animals. Pain seared through his nerves and rolled up his spine in a wave as the dog’s teeth closed yet again on one of his legs.

Someone howled his name.

He was being dragged backward.

He was lifted into the air, dangling by a hind paw, and then he was thrown into the air.

Massive jaws gaped open beneath him, strings of drool handing from the terrible fangs below.

_This is it._ The thought was oddly calm. _It’s going to get revenge on me for wounding it._

He twisted in the air, bringing three good legs under him, claws out. If he was going to die, he was going to bury his claws in whatever he touched.

_It’s odd…_ he noticed absently, _I can still hear hoofbeats even though the sheep are all standing still…_

Then there was very loud, very hard thud.

The dog was gone.

And Ivytail landed on the packed earth hard enough to turn the world blood red, and then pitch black.


	10. Chapter 10

The world returned slowly and reluctantly. He had to blink several times to see more than a blurry mess of color. It reeked of twolegs. The light was too bright, the edges too blurry. His thoughts were sluggish, and couldn’t make sense of anything. His tongue felt thick and unresponsive in his mouth.

“What happened?” he asked weakly.

Or tried to. A feeble voice slurred “wass happnn’?”

Great Starclan, was that his own voice?

A low, alien voice spoke words he couldn’t understand, and a flat twoleg thing was placed in front of him. Water rippled within it and he lapped up a few mouthfuls. His tongue still wasn’t working right and the metallic tasting stuff dribbled past his lips as often as it slid down his parched throat.

The twoleg reached for his hind end and he flinched sluggishly. “Stay away.” He tried to demand, but it came out as a weak mewl. He thrust out a paw, trying to scratch at the twoleg, but it too was numb. He couldn’t even flex his claws.

The twoleg caught his paw lightly and folded it gently back at his side before slowly unwinding a strange white webbing that was wrapped tightly around his bitten leg. The twoleg inspected it, and then slathered something thick on the puncture wounds.

The Windclan warrior could only watch while the twoleg re-wrapped his leg. Then something in its paw stung his leg like a bee. Warmth spread outward from the site, tingling and then numbing as it went. Suddenly nothing much mattered anymore, except the hazy contentment that fogged his brain. He turned his head to look around in vague curiosity, and could have sworn he saw his mother’s anxious face in the hole at the side of the twoleg nest.

Her mouth opened, but he couldn’t hear anything she said. Then darkness claimed him again.

.

Time passed in a haze. He ate and drank what was given to him, and his numb tongue was only barely able to register the taste of the slop he was given.

By the time he was finally able to wake up all the way, he thought that days had passed, though he couldn’t be sure.

He hauled himself to his paws and managed to get up and stagger around a few steps. More white webbing gripped his leg and kept it stiff and partially immobile. The twoleg spotted him quickly and scooped him up. By now, Ivytail was rather used to being handled by the twoleg, and it never mistreated him no matter how helpless he was. He hadn’t heard any barking during the hazy times he was awake, and his sleep was deep and dreamless.

He was set down on a pelt that lay on the floor, and the twoleg began gently unwrapping the webbing around his leg. Ivytail sighed with exaggerated patience as the twoleg began manipulating and flexing the leg in several directions to make sure it moved properly.

“I can do that myself you know,” he told it, tugging his leg out of the twoleg’s grasp. He understood that the twoleg meant well, and was just treating him like a rather fussy medicine cat.

Gently encouraged by the twoleg’s guiding paws, he stretched his injured leg and was amazed to feel that it barely hurt. Whatever the twoleg had done to him, it was almost as good as medicine cat herbs. He walked slowly around on the soft moss inside the twoleg’s den.

There was a tap at the hole in the twoleg nest’s wall, and he looked up to see Ashwhisker staring at him, wide eyed in relief. Ivytail waved his tail in greeting and took a few more steps. His leg felt a little stiff, but it only ached gently.

Feeling braver, he trotted in a big circle. His leg held him up without collapsing.

He glanced at the hole. Ashwhisker nodded and disappeared.

The twoleg seemed to know that it was time to go, because it opened a massive hole in the side of the nest that ran straight down to the floor. Fresh air flowed over the young warrior and he paused at the entrance and took a deep breath. The scents of green grass, warm soil and clean air flowed around him in a welcoming embrace.

The twoleg followed him outside and watched as he hopped down a short series of ledges from the twoleg nest.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” he meowed back to the twoleg, “but I have to go home now!”

Whether it understood him or not, the twoleg waved a paw at him, then came down the ledges and sauntered off to the horseplace.

“Ivytail!”

The young warrior spun and almost moaned in relief at the sight of Ashwhisker and his parents racing to meet him.

“My son!” Rosemask gasped as she skidded to a stop, “Oh great Starclan it’s good to see you. You smell like a twoleg! And you haven’t washed yourself in days!” Her scolding tone was ruined by the relieved purr as she nosed him all over.

“I’m all right,” he reassured them as both his parents pressed against him in relief, “I think the twoleg was like a medicine cat; it took care of me, kept me out of pain, and wrapped my injuries up so they wouldn’t get infected. All I really want is to go home.” He paused and then looked at Ashwhisker, “Are we? Is the clan… home?”

“Yes.” Ashwhisker’s chest swelled, “Oh what a fuss you missed! The clan was chattering like birds all afternoon. And even old Swiftstar didn’t have the heart to order them to stop gossiping and start doing their duties. He and Silvershade started by sharing the tactics that they used to keep their half of the clan safe, but ended up gossiping about Swanwing’s kits. It’s been almost a quarter moon since then!”

Ivytail grimaced at the thought of missing so many of his warrior duties but looked at each of them, “Please tell me! Tell me what happened!”

Ashwhisker’s expression became somber, “I was keeping that horned sheep distracted on the far side of the pen, and the dog grabbed you by the tail. I…” Ashwhisker’s eyes grew haunted. “I couldn’t get to you in time. Then it kept biting its way up. I couldn’t stop the dog, but the sheep could. I had to stop distracting it. And to do that I… I had to run away.”

The image of his clanmate being forced to turn away from a clanmate in danger flashed across Ivytail’s vision as they crossed the border into clan territory. “That was the smartest, bravest thing a clan cat could ever do,” Ivytail meowed thickly.

“It was also the hardest.” Ashwhisker meowed heavily, and then he brightened, “The sheep turned and saw the dog and… I swear to you, it was like its eyes turned red. The dog threw you into the air at the same instant that the sheep slammed into the dog’s ribcage. The dog went _flying_! Lifted it clean off its paws and threw it back into the fence that it had just jumped over.” Ashwhisker’s voice was awestruck. “After that there was a lot of fussing and the twolegs got involved.”

“I was just before Foxdash in the chain, and we both were able to see what happened. There was a lot of shrieking and squalling.” Rosemask meowed. “The twoleg living in the hoseplace jumped the fence and scooped you up before the sheep could turn on you. The visiting twoleg was snarling and raging as it picked up its dog. The dog was bleeding from the mouth and coughing and whining a whole lot. Foxdash and I were horrified; you were limp as a plucked blade of grass in the twoleg’s paws, and you weren’t responding to the racket going on.”

“From what we were able to put together by what the patrols reported to us,” Runningwhisker continued when his mate’s voice failed, “The horseplace twoleg patched up the dog and banished them all. By that same evening, the visiting twoleg and the dogs were gone. The horseplace twoleg had taken you into its nest and we couldn’t see you unless we jumped up by the hole in the sides of the nest. We’ve been trading our spots in shifts. You seemed to be heavily under the influence of poppy seeds until Ashwhisker saw you wake up today.”

Ivytail nodded, “I’m so glad the clan is safe.”

“We’re glad _you’re_ safe, rabbit brain,” Runningwhisker snorted, “You took the biggest risk for all of us. It was your plan, your risk, which made us all whole again. When the clan came back together, everyone was talking about what you did for Swanwing. The apprentices are still chattering about how you talked down a whole patrol of Thunderclan cats, and Fleetfoot reminds us all that it was _your_ plan, as if we could forget with him spouting your praises.”

Ivytail gave a little mrow of laughter.

“Ivytail!” Ivytail barely had time to brace himself before Dawnpaw charged over to him and rubbed herself against his chest, “Oh thank Starclan you’re okay! The whole clan has been worrying about you. And you’ve missed so much! Cindersplash had her kits while you were gone. Three! Three kits! All of them healthy! Lonepaw did brilliantly. And Fawnspot came to tell us that we could all come back to camp. Swanwing even let the mentors help her carry her kits and she didn’t hiss once at the thought of moving them. I guess she wanted to be with the clan as much as the rest of us. We put the Moonpool back to the way it was before we came and we all thanked Starclan for their hospitality. And then…”

Ivytail half closed his eyes and drank in the gossip that his sister tried to tell him all at once. The rest of the clan was drifting over to welcome him. The camp was still battered looking from the dog’s attack, but it was also showing signs of being rebuilt. The nursery looked almost normal, and the heather walls had put on new growth despite the beating they had taken.

The clan was whole, and the clan was safe.

.

The gathering was bustling with cats. It was hard for Ivytail to spot the two Riverclan warriors at first. Spotting Swishpaw, he only had to mention Freefall and Bast to be lead right to them. She stayed to listen, and several other Riverclan cats drifted nearer with their ears pricked.

“I visited them in my dreams,” Ivytail meowed as the cats leaned in, unashamedly eager to hear the news he brought. He kept the information about the dogs to himself, but there were purrs as he told them about the kits, and about the clan that was being built on the foundations of the warrior code.

By the time the gathering was called to order, Riverclan was murmuring their thanks to him for sharing the news. And for a while, the clans were at peace.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well clan cats and readers alike, I’ve come full circle around the lake. Clan cats have faced and beaten dangers.
> 
> You’ve seen glimpses of previous clans and visitors and their futures after our attention has moved beyond them. When I started with Thunderclan, it was partly a challenge to see if I could do it. From there, ideas just flowed. It was a little bit harder to work on Windclan, because after so many dangers in the previous three, I was having trouble thinking of something new. Think about it; we’ve had foxes that used the clan’s own territory against them, lost and found clanmates, jealous clan cats that went crazy and sought revenge, poison that affected both clanmates and territory, loss of prey and herbs both, vicious crows, stolen kits and the closed mindedness of neighboring clans toward kittypets, twolegs and vicious dogs.
> 
> What could possibly be next? Am I done? Is there nothing more to write about?
> 
> Well now, I still have some ideas still buzzing in my brain, but they will require more than what the four clans can offer. If you’re still eager to follow my pawsteps, you may find yourself treading beyond the lake and meeting some clans that live differently. I hope you enjoy the new path that I’d like to open up for you. These cats however, may or may not interact with the clans in the way you are used to, and those you have become familiar with will now be the visitors, not the focus.


End file.
